Deception (Re-Posted)
by morningstar115
Summary: When Arthur is cursed to transform into a magical creature, he and Merlin set out to find Emrys, a creepy old sorcerer who lives alone in the forest, to find a cure. Finding him proves to be a problem, and when they do, where is Merlin? Arthur discovers more than he was supposed to. (Taken over from The World Out There. Eventual magic reveal. Rated T just to be safe.)
1. Rashes and Quarrels

1

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **A few weeks ago, I took over this story from the author The World Out There. The first seven chapters are pretty much hers; if you've read this story before and you don't want a refresher, you can skip straight to chapter eight, which is the continuation.**

 **All eight chapters are posted now! But there will be more!**

 **I hope I do this story justice by continuing it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _The woman peered into the water, the sleeping figure of the King reflecting in her emerald eyes. Murmuring something incomprehensible, her eyes turned a blazing gold, and the image in the scrying bowl turned silver. The woman smirked triumphantly. "_ Soon, Emrys." _she whispered, her silky voice echoing through time and space._

* * *

"Is it bad?" Arthur asked, trying to peer over his shoulder at the physician.

"I expect it to be gone in a few hours. It is, after all, only a rash, sire."

"It sure seemed to be more irritating than one."

Gaius finished rubbing the lotion onto Arthur's back, watching as it disappeared into the King's skin. He glanced at Merlin. The lanky young man seemed to be quite amused, leaning against the table and smiling goofily at Arthur, who was laying on his stomach.

The King was glaring back, Gaius noticed, as the old man turned to put the bottle on a shelf.

"What's the matter, _Mer_ lin?" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, losing the staring contest between the two. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Merlin grinned even wider. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that the mighty King of Camelot has fought dragons, sorcerers, evil. After all that, with all your injuries, you didn't make a peep. But now, a rash, and you squeal and go straight to Gaius. Very heroic, milord."

The physician suppressed a smile. He had grown quite fond of their banter, and it was always worth his time to see what the next insult was. He looked expectantly to Arthur.

The King was most definitely not amused.

The servant ducked and dodged the household items that had suddenly become projectiles. Somewhat more skillfully and gracefully than he had before, Gaius noted proudly.

Arthur rolled out of his laying position, grabbing his shirt. Merlin gave the old man a look that said: _See? What did I tell you?_ and scrambled back into the hall, Arthur hot on his heels.

Gaius laughed quietly to himself when he heard the startled yelps of the maids and the sound of platters falling. He shook his head. Young people were so hotheaded.

The smile quickly turned into a frown as he realized he would be the one cleaning up.

* * *

Arthur struck the dummy with his sword, faintly aware that Merlin was watching from the side. The rash was infuriating. It itched so badly, but rubbing at it through his chain mail only made it worse. The blade impaled the dummy, cutting through the straw effortlessly. He did it over and over again, until he felt a figure approach. He looked up. "Gwaine? What do you want, mate?"

Gwaine held up his sword. "Come on. Let's spar." He said, turning around and exiting the dummy area. Arthur grinned and followed without question.

"You sure you want to speed your way to certain death, Gwaine?"

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to ask you?"

"Very funny."

The moment they entered the clearing where the other knights were, Gwaine spun around and attacked. The sound of metal clashing and scraping rang through the clearing as the King blocked the blow and swung his own.

Slowly, the knights gathered to see the fight, laughing and cheering as the two men rolled, stabbed, swung and blocked. After a good ten minutes, no one seemed to have advantage of the situation yet, but the crowds hadn't subsided.

Merlin watched, intrigued. A lot of the people in the crowd were whispering. Knowing that they were setting up bets, he smiled. _I wonder how much they're willing to lose_ , he wondered. Suddenly, the crowd burst into cheers, and the warlock redirected his gaze back to the two men. They both stood, panting, with their swords at each other's throats.

* * *

"That rash is infuriating. You know how many times it distracted me? In a real fight, I'd be dead because of it." Arthur complained, walking to Merlin. "I'm pretty sure the knights were betting again too. They seemed to find it funny that we tied."

The servant rolled his eyes and took the King's sword. "Well, I'm not surprised. You know, the outcome is pretty predictable."

"What, me winning?"

"I guess you really are as dense as you look." Merlin dodged a slap. "You and Gwaine tie every time."

"As if it happens that often."

"It does. This is your eleventh sparring this month."

Arthur frowned, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation. "Well, get to your chores. I'm going to see if Gaius can do anything with that rash."

"Yes, sire." The raven-haired young man said, turning and started walking back to the armory.

Suddenly, a piercing wail cut through the air, sending shivers up Merlin's spine. He dropped the sword and spun around, searching for the origin. What on earth could have made that noise? Was it even human?

Faces peeked out of doorways, terrified expressions visible as they desperately tried to pinpoint where it had come from. People in the hallways stopped to see what was going on. All of the sudden, a maid carrying a bundle of sheets dropped her load and pointed.

Arthur was on hands and knees, heaving. He seemed to be in excruciating pain, but did not make another sound as he stared at the floor, panting. Merlin sprinted toward him, but skidded to a halt when the man collapsed. Writhing across the floor, Arthur groaned and screamed in anguish as he clutched his body. "Arthur!" Gwaine shoved a path through the crowd, but was stopped by Percival, who shook his head. Gwaine shoved past him too, not stopping until he reached Arthur. The noble commoner pinned the blonde's arms to his sides and trapped his legs, stopping the writhing. Several knights joined the struggle of holding the King down as Gwaine got more resistance. The servant watched, horrified, as his king's breathing became sharp, ragged gaps and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. Then he became still, and his eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Gaius leaned over the King for the second time that day, examining his lower back.

"Is he alright?" Merlin asked, leaning against the same table he had that morning.

"I'm not entirely sure." The physician said slowly, trying to assess the situation. "We'll use more than one herb this time. Get me some yarrow, angelica and rosemary."

"Ginger?"

"Good idea. We wouldn't want him to pass out again."

After Merlin left to get the requested herbs, Gaius kept trying to analyze the problem. The rash had disappeared and there didn't seem to be anything that could have really hurt the King. According to Merlin's description, not even a severely broken limb could have caused that much pain.

So what could it be?

He had ruled out a headache. That would simply not be possible. Neither was the scar on his arm, nor the cut on his heel and those were all the injuries he had at the moment. "Merlin!" he called, as the servant entered the room. "I don't know what it could be. I've checked his whole body, and it couldn't be internal bleeding, he'd be dead by now."

"Let me see."

Merlin leaned over the King and pointed at the man's lower back. "Where is the rash?"

"Gone."

"How did it disappear without a trace? He was complaining about it right before it happened. He said it was itching right here."

The moment Merlin's finger connected with the King's skin, a wave of silver light flooded the room, blinding the two men. A rush of sounds met their ears. Screaming and whispering voices seemed to circle their heads, beasts roared in the distance, children cried. Everything was silver -there were no objects- although their surroundings seemed to change with the sounds. A mysterious forest, a burning village. Then as soon as it had come, the silver dimension disappeared and they were standing next to Arthur again.

One thing had changed. Merlin could sense it. He looked at Arthur.

Right there, in shimmering, silver letters, on his lower back stood one word; one name:

 _Emrys_


	2. Silver

2

* * *

 _Arthur looked around, confused. Where was he? Everything was silver, and he couldn't tell left from right._

 _Was he dead? Was this the afterlife?_

 _Questions filled his mind, confusing him even more. He tried to focus on the one that confused him the most. Why couldn't he see anything? It surprised him, that that was his main thought. It was not of Camelot, or death. It was a plain simple question, that so many people before him had probably asked themselves. The weird thing was, he heard plenty. Birds chirped and something howled. He smelled the musty scent of the forest floor and sensed life forms around him. Shivers ran up his spine. In this place, all of his senses seemed to be enhanced, except his sight._

 _Was he blind? He had always imagined that blind people saw only black. Not a bright silver. He hadn't realized how dependent he was on his eyes before. Well, he wasn't using them, might as well close them. Anything was better than that blinding silver. The moment he closed his eyes, shapes became visible in his mind's eye. At first he thought he was imagining things, but slowly he starting to discern trees. Slowly, everything came into view. Leaves covered the dirt floor, and a cave loomed in front of him. He opened his eyes. The world was gone. Silver stretched in all directions, but when he closed them again, it was black. Arthur tried opening and closing his eyes a couple times before he was convinced that it was real._

 _He approached the cave, studying the symbol on a rock. It was a complicated pattern of curves and lines, but somehow it radiated energy. He leaned closer, noticing that it was faintly luminous. Why was this obviously magical thing glowing? He reached to touch it, but snatched his hand back abruptly when he realized what he was doing. It was magic! Why would he touch it? He had lost so much to sorcery._

 _Suddenly, he wasn't alone._

 _A warm hand touched his shoulder. On an impulse, he spun around and opened his eyes. A woman stood there, her armor reflecting the silver emptiness around her. Her black hair reached down to her waist. Arthur shivered. She looked like Morgana, but... warmer. Instead of pale, this woman was tan, her cheekbones were more defined and her lips were red. Arthur expected brown eyes as he looked up, but instead intense pale blue eyes ringed by black stared back at him. Agreed, she was beautiful, but something about the way her eyes stared at him made him take a step back. He reached for his sword, only to realize that it wasn't there. "Who are you?" He asked suspiciously._

 _"My name is Lanae. I have come to warn you."_

 _"For what?"_

 _"The curse that has settled on you."_

 _Arthur grabbed her arm. "If you did it, I swear-"_

 _She disappeared. Staring at the spot where she had been standing just a moment ago, he blinked. Then he spun around. "You're a witch!"_

 _She appeared in front of him, slightly amused._

 _"That is not the point. Kaena has put a curse on you, and if you do not do anything about it, you will die."_

 _Arthur frowned. Apparently, this woman was not hostile. But she was a witch, which meant that he couldn't trust her word. Still, he didn't like the idea of dying, and she did have magic... "Can you lift it?"_

 _She blinked, surprised. Then she shook her head. "Sadly, no. Only Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time, can."_

 _Arthur grunted in frustration. "What does this curse do, exactly?"_

 _"I don't know. The Araendye curse is very unpredictable, but in every case, someone dies."_

 _"But-"_

 _She silenced him, jerking her head abruptly to look over her shoulder. She closed her eyes momentarily._

 _"You need to leave. Kaena has been made aware of our presence. She is coming."_

 _Arthur's vision began to darken. He realized he was being sucked back into the living. He asked his one final question:_

 _"Where do I find this Emrys?"_

 _She chuckled. "I'll leave that for you to figure out. He is closer than you think."_

 _What does she mean? He wondered. He didn't have much time to think about it. Slowly, his vision darkened until he could only see her face. She smiled._

 _"Until we meet again, Arthur Pendragon."_

 _The last thing he saw before he blacked out were her pale blue eyes, filled with pity._


	3. Cursed

3

* * *

Merlin paced in front of Gaius, biting his nails anxiously. His footsteps echoed as they hit the stone floor.

"I'm sure he's fine, Merlin."

"He's been out for two days."

"That doesn't have to mean anything."

"TWO DAYS, GAIUS. BECAUSE OF A RASH. It means something."

"It's a magical rash."

"THAT'S WHY I'M WORRIED."

Gaius sighed, rubbing his temple. He felt as if they had this conversation before. "My dear boy, he will be up and complaining before the day has ended."

Right on cue, a voice yelled, followed by a painful thud. Merlin glanced at the old physician and rushed out of the room. Opening the door to his room, he caught sight of the King next to the bed. The bedding was crumpled and creased, a stray pillow resting on his lap. Arthur wore a confused expression, blinking heavily and frowning at Merlin. Apparently, the barely conscious man had fallen out and hit his head. Hand still clutching the side of his head, the King looked up at his servant. "Tell me, Merlin, how do you sleep in this thing? It's incredibly small."

The warlock frowned at the shattered potion bottle Arthur had taken down with him in his journey to the floor before meeting his master's eyes. "Are you alright?"

Arthur groaned. "I guess. I had the weirdest dream." He struggled to get back on his feet, Merlin reaching to help him. "Really Arthur, what did you eat?" The younger man groaned, trying to support the blonde's weight with his thin frame.

"I am _not fat_!"

"You sure about that?" Merlin complained, releasing the King as soon as they got to a bench. He rubbed his shoulder. Mumbling about 'stupid prat' and 'diet', he earned a raised eyebrow from the physician, effectively shutting him up. Gaius turned to Arthur. "Sire, may I check your, ah, wound? You may have bruised it when you fell from the bed."

Merlin chuckled. Glaring at him moodily, the nobleman muttered a curt "Alright."

While the old man undid the bandages on the King's lower back, Merlin moved closer. "You mentioned you had a dream, sire."

Arthur scowled, recalling the eerie symbol and intimidating woman. "Yes, it was very strange. You see, where I was, it was all silver. I couldn't see a thing."

Both Gaius and Merlin froze in their tracks, exchanging a look Arthur could not read. He felt the physician stop unwrapping the fabric. "Go on."

Arthur told them about how his senses had been messed up, seeing in his mind's eye, and the symbol, but before he got to the part about the curse and Emrys he slowly came to a stop, noticing their expressions. They were of astonishment. The noble narrowed his eyes. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Merlin was the first to break out of his daze. "No! No, we believe you, just... Could you repeat the name?"

"Well, the woman with the armor was Lanae, and she mentioned another name. I can't seem to remember-"

Gaius interrupted, his voice emotionless. "Kaena."

Arthur blinked, noticing the older man's grave expression for the first time. "Yes, that's it. How did you know?"

"Kaena and Lanae were legendary witches. Kaena was not only feared for her destructive power, but also for her knowledge. It was said she knew all curses and spells in ever created."

Arthur's eyes widened. "What about Lanae?"

"Lanae was her counterpart. She would mend the destruction Kaena would cause. But centuries ago, both disappeared. They were pronounced dead."

Merlin frowned, staring at Gaius. At first the King could not figure out why, but trained as he was for noticing small things, he saw the old man's eyebrow twitch almost imperceptibly. "Gaius, you are hiding something. Spit it out."

The physician hesitated, then sighed. "People say that, right before Kaena disappeared, she created a curse."

Merlin interrupted. "Well, that's not so strange. Witches and sorcerers do it all the time."

"And how would you know, _Mer_ lin?"

The young man avoided his gaze. Gaius looked almost sad. "Merlin does have a point. Creating a curse or spell is not uncommon. But what Kaena did was exceptional. Her curse could only be used on one person at a time, and crossed all physical and magical boundaries. The victim would turn into a mythical beast."

A shudder ran up Arthur's spine. His father had taught him enough about magic for him to know that transforming into any legendary, magical and mythical beast was something that no one would even think of. All people with magic respected such creatures and wouldn't dare to do such a thing.

"But she didn't stop at that. Whoever unfortunate enough to receive such a curse would also become possessed, although it takes time. The first one only had four days before his soul disappeared. The second was lucky enough to have weeks."

Arthur tried to imagine his friends like that, but imagining Leon as a wolf with red eyes creeping up behind him was too much for his mind to bear. "Did someone have to cast the spell every time?"

"No. Only Kaena knew how to cast the curse. The cursed one would have one name on it's mind, and would destroy everything in it's wake until it finds the person the name belongs to. Then it will transfer the curse to that person and die. When that happens, the cycle begins anew."

"How come we haven't heard about it before?"

"After the sixth curse, a brave man named Suwyl stopped it. No one knows how, but since then no one has suffered because of it."

Arthur's muscles tensed. What if... "Did this curse have a name?"

Gaius scowled. "Yes, it is known as the Araendye curse."

 _The Araendye curse._ The name echoed in his mind. Arthur fell off the bench, his breath turning shallow. Until now, he had entirely forgotten about his curse. Was that really what was going to happen to him? Was he going to turn into some horrid monster and attack his friends? Lanae had said something very unnerving about that curse... _The Araendye curse is very unpredictable._ What did she mean with that? A voice jolted him out of his daze.

"Sire? Sire! Are you alright?"

Merlin and Gaius looked down at him, concerned. Should he tell them? No. If Camelot discovered that their King was cursed, there would be chaos.

"Y... Yes."

Merlin knelt down beside him. "Arthur, you are not alright. Something happened in your dream, other than what you have told us."

The King hesitated, but then nodded. He needed help, he didn't even know where to find this Emrys. Surely, Gaius could help. "After that woman appeared, she told me I was cursed. She told me that it was the..." he struggled to pronounce the name. "That curse you were talking about. When I asked her if she could lift it, she just smiled and said that only Emrys could."

Merlin stood up again, an unreadable look in his eyes. Glancing at Gaius, the servant left the room without another word. Surprised, the King's eyes followed him out the door. "What's with him?" He asked Gaius.

"I think he's just upset that you're cursed. Not to worry, I'm sure he'll be back."

"Gaius, where would I find Emrys? I don't want to become possessed."

"No one knows who exactly he is except the druids, but word has gotten out that he lives in a old hunting cabin at the edge of the forest of Essetir. Best to look there first. If he's not there, keep traveling to the druids. They will know."

He hadn't noticed it before, but he was shaking. His hands were trembling, his body quaking violently. Yes, he had been poisoned, enchanted, threatened and more, but none of them had actually harmed the ones he loved (or at least, none he knew of). It was too much, too cruel. He the king, the protector of his people, would not see them slaughtered by himself, even if it meant he would have to die. The idea of him as a huge, muscled griffin looming over a terrified Guinevere crept to the front of his mind. That would not happen.

He would make sure of that. "That sounds reasonable. I'll go find Merlin."

Gaius cleared his throat. "Well, could I perhaps check your wound before you go, sire? I never had the chance."

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "Be my guest."

Gaius carefully unwrapped the bandage, staring at the spot for a while before replacing the covering. Arthur craned his neck to look, but the older man had already hidden the 'injury' from sight.

"Nothing wrong, I'm guessing?"

"Nothing, sire."

"Good. I'll go find Merlin."

Gaius stared after the King as he exited the chambers. The man obviously had no idea how big the problem was. It was worse than Arthur could ever imagine. The risk of the curse, the danger, was enormous. The physician felt sorry for Merlin. The young man was powerful enough to save himself, but this concerned the entire kingdom. If he failed, Camelot would be thrown into chaos at the mere idea of their King slaughtering his own people. It actually happening meant the downfall of the kingdom. But the old man knew not only Camelot was at risk. So was Merlin's heart. Seeing his best friend transform into a bloodthirsty, murderous creature would shatter it into a million pieces, never to be repaired.

Gaius looked at the old bandage he had taken from the King. Yes, knowing it was happening was bad, terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. But seeing it happening was even more so.

He shuddered at the memory of the pair of golden, overlapping scales growing from the the King's skin.


	4. Traveling

4

* * *

Stunned. Astonished. Flabbergasted. Arthur wasn't sure how to describe how he felt. " _What_?"

Merlin gave him an exasperated stare. "You heard me."

"You're just going to... abandon me? As much as it pains me to say it, Merlin, I have always been impressed by your stubbornness to go with me."

The servant fingered his red scarf, staring sadly into the distance. "I'm sorry Arthur, it's just..."

"Just what?" Arthur asked sharply. He felt betrayed. He hadn't taken the curse seriously before, but now Merlin had refused to go with him, it seemed to be worse. Much worse. Going to see the most powerful warlock of all time with a trusted friend was one thing, going alone was another. After all they had done together, how could he abandon Arthur that? He had faced a bloody dragon with him!

The servant sighed, lifting his head ever so slightly. Arthur froze. Was that glint in his eye... guilt? Before Arthur could investigate any further, the eyes turned back to the floor, the glint disappearing into the shadows of his eyelid.

"Just... Arthur, it's complicated. I'm not going. Get over it."

This shattered Arthur's patience. Growling, he grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled him toward the courtyard. The young man yelped, slapping Arthur's hand, and causing him to let go. Arthur turned, his hard gaze softening as he saw Merlin's frightened expression. What was he doing? He couldn't force his friend. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm just scared." he blurted, ignoring the startled stares he got from passerby. "I'm terrified. Don't abandon me. I can't go there alone."

Merlin was torn. He knew what Arthur said was true, he wouldn't make it without the support of a friend. But going with him would be to much of a risk. Arthur would go looking for him after he disappeared. Of course, he would be there, in the form of Emrys, but Arthur wouldn't know that. He couldn't go.

He swore Arthur looked like a baby seal. His eyes were big and round, begging him to help.

He hadn't realized he'd nodded until Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Go get another horse ready. I'll be waiting by the gate."

The King walked off, Merlin glaring after him.

Sometimes he really hated his selflessness.

* * *

"Took you long enough." Arthur chuckled as Merlin struggled to get the pack on his horse. The servant climbed on himself, but froze when he saw the angry glare the blond was sending him. "What?"

"Where is the other pack?"

"We're sharing one. You are going on a diet."

" _Merlin_!"

"Don't look at me like that. You could lose some 'padding'."

Merlin practically saw the smoke curling from his nostrils. "I am _fighting fit_!"

"Whatever you say, sire."

Arthur sent him a death glare. The next few minutes were ridden in silence, only broken by the occasional jangling of chain mail. It was welcomed by Merlin. While Arthur was always complaining about Merlin talking too much, the servant noticed that the King was a chatterbox himself. He could think of the strangest things to complain about. Some things didn't even make sense. 'Merlin, have you seen these socks? I'm absolutely certain that the blue was duller yesterday. Go wash them.' It was hilarious to see Arthur fretting about things that simply did not matter.

Hours later, they stopped to set up camp. Merlin stirred the stew, the wooden spoon emerging and disappearing in the thick soup. Tasting it, Merlin made a face. Maybe he had added a little too much ginger. He reached for the basil. Arthur appeared from the forest, dumping the load of firewood into the fire and crouched to watch as the servant added various ingredients. "You know, I appreciate you coming."

Merlin snorted. "It wasn't as if I had a choice in the matter. Don't ever give me that look again."

"What look?"

"You gave me the pleading eyes, you know, where you're eyes go all big and round."

The King shrugged. "Well, it worked. What were you pouting about anyway?"

Merlin didn't answer. The king tilted his head, trying to decipher his expression. The younger man's eyes were downcast, the corners of his mouth turned down slightly He almost looked guilty. Suddenly, Arthur's eyes sparked with mirth. "You sneaky little..." his sentence was left unfinished as he chuckled. Merlin just looked at him, oblivious. Forcing his breathing to slow down, Arthur grinned at his servant. "You didn't think you could hide it forever, did you? You can't keep secrets from me."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You... know?"

"Of course I do!"

"But... you won't throw me in the dungeons?"

The king raised his eyebrows. "What? That would be extreme, wouldn't it?"

Merlin didn't know what to say. As he redirected his gaze back to his pot, Arthur scooted closer and nudged him. "What's her name?" He drawled the last word, pronouncing it so it seemed as if he were teasing. Merlin shook his head. "Although I know how much you enjoy matchmaking, a girl is not why I was 'pouting'."

Arthur's smile melted. He hoped he hadn't upset the servant. "Oh."

Merlin handed him a steaming bowl of stew, the slight upturn of his lips betraying the fact that he was actually very amused.


	5. Dragons and Prophecies

5

* * *

Arthur glared into the pale golden sunlight, his eyelids half-way open as he adjusted to the sudden brightness. He felt itchy and weird, and apparently hadn't lain still while he slept. His blanket lay hanging from a branch a couple feet away.

Slowly, he opened his eyes fully. His eyelids felt heavier than usual, but before he could question it, he noticed the main difference.

His vision was better.

It wasn't a subtle difference, he noted. It was like he had transformed into an eagle and back again, but had managed to keep the sight. He could see the bumps, flaws and ridges in a pebble a hundred feet away, and spotted a mosquito hovering over it as well. He blinked. What was happening? He needed someone to talk to before he would go insane.

Detecting Merlin, the cursed King approached him, feet sinking into the soft earth. Leaning over the sleeping figure, he reached to shake Merlin, but was stopped by his sleepy voice. His lids remained closed, but he seemed to sense Arthur's presence.

"Kilgharrah? Whaddya doing here? Did you change your mind?" he yawned groggily, still not opening his eyes. What? Kilgharrah? Merlin was obviously confused.

"Merlin. Wake up."

"You swallow a bird or something? 'Cuz I'm not gonna help you outta that again."

Arthur had no idea who Kilgharrah was, let alone how someone was supposed to swallow a bird. He shook his head.

"Merlin."

"No. I am not doing that again, Kilgharrah, you know how much energy that took? You would think a cryptic old lizard like you would know-"

"Merlin! I don't know who Kilgharrah is, or how in the world he could swallow a bird, but you'd better wake up _right now._ "

The young man sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "You know you can't fool me, you crazy old dr-" His sentence was cut off when he squinted at the King. They stood there a moment, just staring at each other in silence.

Then Merlin screamed.

* * *

He screamed, shutting his eyes tightly.

 _What the hell?_ Merlin asked himself. _That was definitely NOT Kilgharrah._ The aura that surrounded that... creature was the exact same as the old dragon. It was magic, that was sure. It radiated power, power so great anyone else than a dragonlord would feel compelled to bow. But, as he had confirmed before, it was not Kilgharrah. Who else could it be? Certainly not- oh. Oh. Carefully and suspicious, he opened one eye, staring at the strange yet familiar presence before him.

 _Arthur?_

The King had changed drastically. Instead of blue, intense golden orbs stared back at him, seeming somehow reptile. The pupils had narrowed, and the eyes were set slightly diagonally in a cat-like fashion. Small, golden scales appeared under them, winding around his cheekbones and tracing the bold jaw line. They seemed to evade his cheeks and nose, reappearing under his nostrils and continuing down to his chin. His lips had disappeared, leaving only a dark line to indicate where his mouth was. His hair was the only recognizable part, but it too had obtained a golden hue.

"Merlin, if you don't stop staring at me, I will slap you here and now."

"I- I..."

"Spit it out."

"Take your shirt off." The warlock blurted, surprising himself.

"What?" Arthur narrowed his eyes. It was quite intimidating actually, the pupils narrowing even more and the gold in the iris suddenly obtaining a reddish shade. _Just like Camelot,_ Merlin thought absentmindedly. He cleared his throat and repeated shakily: "Take your shirt off. I need to see how... how your wound is healing." He finished slowly, deciding that Arthur would not be ready for the news.

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. "Okay. If that is all." He cast Merlin a suspicious glance. The young man desperately hoped he looked nonchalant. The King would flip out if he discovered scales covering half his body.

Shrugging his shirt off, Arthur turned his back to Merlin, allowing him to take off the bandage. The bandage itself was huge, covering the King's entire back. Merlin had been confused before and had quizzed Gaius repeatedly on why it was so big, but as he peeled off the fabric, he knew why. The old physician had seen this coming. Merlin's eyes widened as he took in the golden scales racing up Arthur's spine, fading back into skin as they neared the nape of his neck. The tiny plates were arranged in random patterns, swirling and spinning but avoiding his shoulder blades entirely. At first Merlin's eyes did not see it, but then he froze. Something else was developing under the skin. Something big. _Wings_.

Dear God.

Half of the warlock's mind was grinning. Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Arthur was turning into a _dragon_ , of all things? The irony! Fate had a weird sense of humor indeed.

The other half, however entertained by this idea, was worried. Arthur couldn't rule Camelot as a dragon. The kingdom had been attacked by one just a few years ago, and even without this fact, they would panic. Their protector would become a threat. And there was also the fact that Arthur would become possessed...

No. This was bad. Really bad. Merlin couldn't have a dragon rampaging through the kingdom, creating chaos and destruction wherever it went. He didn't even know if being a dragonlord would count for anything, since this was a curse and Arthur would not be a real dragon.

Hell, the royal prat didn't even know what was happening yet.

"You done? How long does it take to look at a wound?" Arthur turned around, folding his arms across his bare chest. The scales were scattered across his shoulders, reaching toward his elbows. These were faded, less obvious ones. It was as if the scales were consciously trying to avoid being seen by the King until he was fully transformed.

"Yes, I just encountered a, ah, minor problem." Merlin tried to smile reassuringly.

"And what would this minor problem be?"

The servant bit his lip. There was no way he was going to hide this for long. He just hoped Arthur wouldn't direct his anger on him. But he would, Merlin knew. He was Arthur's own personal scapegoat. He would certainly be blamed, somehow or rather, for this new development.

Gesturing vaguely at the scales on the King's shoulders, he shuffled his feet nervously. To his surprise, the shouting never started. Instead, when he looked up, he saw only confusion in the other man's eyes. "Merlin, you have to be more obvious than that."

Oh God. He was trapped. "Well, uh..."

"Yes?"

Merlin didn't want to say it. It would mean verbal communication, and he knew it would be awkward, as he was always awkward when he was anxious. "You'rekindagrowingscalesandstuff." He muttered, turning his head to obtain sudden interest in a fly.

"What?" The voice sounded strained and incredulous. Arthur had heard and understood him, that he was sure of, which meant he didn't have to repeat himself. Relieved and regaining some of his courage, Merlin turned back to face his friend.

"I am not going to repeat that. You'll either get angry at me or panic and THEN get angry at me."

"But... Scales?" Arthur's gaze found the golden plates on his shoulders. Eyes widening, he stared silently at them. Merlin felt a pang of sympathy. The noble had been taught to recognize magical creatures, and it was clear he knew exactly which one the scales belonged to. Tense, he waited for a reaction. The royal sighed, more frustrated than anything, and pulled his shirt back over his head. "Well, let's go soon. The less time we waste, the better."

Merlin blinked. That was unexpected. Almost no reaction at all. "Yes, sire."

* * *

Arthur was not surprised. Transforming into a dragon? Yes, unpleasant, but not unpredictable. After all, his name was Pen _dragon_ and he _had_ slain the Great Dragon. Providence always came back to punch him in the face in some way or another.

He was still upset though. Upset, but curious. What were the uses of these things? Based on what Merlin told him, the scales on his back were oval, a vibrant golden color and overlapping. When the servant touched them, however, they were surprisingly flexible and bent easily under his fingers. It seemed that if under constant pressure, the scales would bend and allow the dragon to squeeze into smaller spaces. But, when Merlin tried tapping and knocking, they also discovered that if anything quick and forceful would collide with them, they would immediately harden into solid armor, which would prove extremely useful in battle. Arthur found it intriguing. If only they had chain mail like that.

But no matter how interesting these new changes were, they did nothing to change his foul mood. After the quick experiments with the scales, they hopped back onto their horses (or rather; Merlin fell onto his horse), and continued their journey to the forest. Merlin seemed to become agitated as they neared their destination, shifting constantly in his saddle. He even fell off a couple of times, he was moving so much. Arthur caught phrases as he muttered under his breath: "Stupid destiny" "Overgrown lizard" "Too cryptic". This was extremely confusing for the cursed King, although he swore he heard Merlin mentioning the Easter bunny.

Why the poor Easter bunny had anything to do with this at all, he didn't know.

* * *

Merlin felt rotten. He didn't have a plan. The main idea was that they would arrive at Emrys'/Dragoon's hut, he would transform into an old man, cure Arthur, then disappear and return as himself. Mission accomplished.

The main problem was, unfortunately, a big one. And because of this main problem, the main idea would not work.

He didn't know how to cure Arthur.

Gaius had made it clear that he hardly knew anything about the curse, and Geoffrey didn't either. The poor librarian had helped him look up and down the shelves, without any luck. Even Kilgharrah had refused to tell him anything. Merlin sighed, frustrated, as he recalled the encounter.

* * *

 _The dragon chuckled, huge frame shaking as regarded the warlock with newfound interest. "Dare I believe it? The King, cursed to transform into a magical creature?" When the creature saw Merlin nod curtly, he started (literally) roaring with laughter. "How fitting!"_

 _The servant crossed his arms, scowling. "Ha-ha. Do you realize that I will be the one to solve this?"_

 _Kilgharrah smirked. "Yes, of course, young warlock. You are Emrys. You are destined for great things."_

 _"How do I cure him?"_

 _"I do not know."_

 _The warlock blinked. "You don't... know?"_

 _Kilgharrah hummed, pleased at the fact that Merlin wouldn't believe it. "I do not." he admitted. "Although, there is a prophecy."_

 _Merlin frowned. "Is there a prophecy for everything I do?"_

 _"In fact, I think there is. I remember a prophecy about you spilling wine on the king's favorite shirt. It was something like:_

 ** _To spill alcohol over the King's favorite shirt_**

 ** _He survived, although it did hurt_**

 ** _Even while looking all innocent and meek,_**

 ** _For the first time, Emrys managed to stay in the stocks for a week_** _"_

 _Merlin rolled his eyes, face flushing with embarrassment. "Focus, Kilgharrah."_

 _"You sure you want to know?"_

 _"Yes, because otherwise the kingdom will be in peril. Now please tell me."_

 _The dragon sighed. "Fine. You want the prophecy? Here you go._

 ** _When a curse is cast on the Once and Future King_**

 ** _Fear and chaos he shall bring_**

 ** _To wander in darkness, fear and secrets_**

 ** _And find cure, death and weakness_**

 ** _To silver or fire, it will fall_**

 ** _The key will be lost in an empty hall_**

 ** _The lock shall be broken and rediscovered_**

 ** _Leaving the bane of Emrys uncovered"_**

* * *

Merlin did not know what to think. Ever since Arthur had grown scales, the eight lines seemed to circle his head, whispering threateningly. The first two were at least pretty obvious, but the rest made no sense at all. To wander in darkness, fear and secrets? The Key? Bane of Emrys? It was all nonsense to him.

And they certainly didn't help him find a cure.


	6. Emrys

6

* * *

Merlin nudged his horse forward, suddenly on edge. The forest was shrouded by a thick fog that had come in at around noon, and his inability to see certainly did not help his nerves. Faint outlines of trees could be seen at either side of the path, making him feel so small, so helpless. They would emerge out of nowhere, a wall of wood, and fade back into fog as he passed them. He could almost imagine the shack appear out of the mist. Dread pooled in his stomach. They would arrive within the hour, he knew. Perhaps in a matter of minutes. What would he do then?

He didn't have the cure, and there was no guarantee that Arthur wouldn't simply run him through on the spot. He was sure to recognize him as Dragoon. After all, he had killed the King. His stomach clenched at the memory of Uther, waking, _smiling_ , and then dying. He had never meant for that to happen. And yet it had. If only he had paid more attention...

"We're here." Arthur said in a soft voice, slowing his horse to walk alongside Merlin. The servant froze, clinging to the reins. Those were the last words he wanted to hear at the moment.

The mist thinned minimally, allowing him to see the hut. It looked much like normal, camouflaged between the trees and leaning precariously to the left, probably because of the recent storm. The wood looked decayed in some places, and the abandoned structure looked barely stable enough to live in.

The King frowned at it. "I've been here before." He said, turning to stare at Merlin with narrowed eyes. The gold in them glowed almost fluorescently and the black of the slits contrasted sharply. The warlock swallowed. He had almost forgotten that the King now had dragon eyes, which made him even more intimidating.

"You have?" he yelped, pretending to be oblivious.

"Yes, you idiot. And I happen to remember that this was home to the sorcerer who killed my father." His voice was a growl, dangerously low. Merlin's breath hitched in his throat with fear, not expecting it to sound so guttural. He could easily imagine a dragon saying it, regarding him with those reptile-like eyes. Mustering the strength he had, he managed a lopsided grin. Why he did this was lost to him, but hopefully it would offer his friend some comfort.

"Oh. Well, you'd better go in and meet him then."

Arthur did not look comforted in the least. "Merlin! I'm not- this is the man who killed my father!"

"Yes, you already said that."

"I can't just go in and have tea with him!"

"Look, Arthur, he's Emrys. He can cure you. Just get it over with and go inside already."

The royal looked extremely upset at this comment, but swung down from his horse nonetheless. He landed lightly, his feet hardly making a sound as they sunk into the soft ground, and started to walk towards the abandoned structure. The servant was already halfway out of his saddle when Arthur turned to face him. He smiled innocently, freezing in the awkward position. One foot still stuck in the stirrup, the other leg being held dangerously in the air, he wobbled slightly. Arthur raised an eyebrow, all apparent negative thoughts gone.

"What are you doing, _Mer_ lin?"

The man in question bit his lip, mentally thanking that the King hadn't turned half a minute later. He would have already disappeared, and that would be sure to raise questions. "I need to pee."

"Do you? If I remember correctly, you had to last time too."

"Well, I really need to go, so..."

Arthur snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "Go on then, but I fully expect you to be here when I get back."

The warlock grinned goofily. It seemed luck was on his side today, or at least for now.

Then he fell off his horse.

* * *

Arthur smiled to himself as he heard Merlin's surprised squeak and a soft _thump_ that confirmed his suspicion. He suppressed a laugh. Merlin's clumsiness was a blessing sometimes, cheering him up immediately whenever he was frightened or sad. Then his smile melted. He could not afford to be distracted from his task, maybe Dragoon had seen him coming. No doubt that cranky old man would set up a magical trap of some kind.

His steps heavy with dread, his made his way to the hut. It was smaller than he remembered, the wood darker and rotting in some places. The windows were dirty, the roof showing holes. Surely Dragoon would at least try to keep his living space in order? If he hadn't been here before, he would have assumed it had been abandoned years ago.

Carefully, he nudged the door, bracing himself for an arrow in his side, or inability to move, or spontaneously dying. But nothing happened. Frowning, he pushed it open.

It was much as he remembered. The walls were made of simple stone, and animals hung from the ceiling. It had a comfortable atmosphere, he noticed. Candles were scattered across the room, resting on desks and shelves. None of them were lit, but a surprising amount of light was filtered through the filthy glass. The small fireplace was also empty of flame. Random tools were spread across the floor, and Arthur spotted the entrance to the next room, which he knew held the table he sat at last time he was here. Avoiding the sharp edges, he picked up a shard of pottery. It was cold to the touch, and curved slightly. He realized this might be part of Dragoon's 'favorite pot'. It had the same design on it, and wasn't that far from where he had dropped it. Did he clean up _at all_? He broke this years ago!

The sound of the door shutting behind him made him jump, dropping the shard. It shattered, spreading the fragments across the floor and only adding to the mess.

He turned to Dragoon, who raised an eyebrow and eyed the remnants of the shard. He looked the same as well, his long white hair falling into his eyes. His slightly stooped posture suggested pain or simply age, and his ankle was in a rather awkward position. A worn leather bag was slung over his shoulder, the dust covering his face only adding to the impression that he had been traveling. His orbs were a stormy blue, a spark of amusement half-hidden in the folds of his eyelid, but otherwise the eyes were cool, intelligent. It was strange, Arthur felt as if he knew this man for far longer than he actually did.

"Breaking my pots again, are you?" The sorcerer was doing his best to look cross, but Arthur could practically see the hidden smile in the lines of his ancient face. The royal could feel the rage bubbling up inside him. This man had killed his father, murdered the only family member he was able to trust. And he dared to laugh at him? He was supposed to be begging for forgiveness!

But, he could not let his rage get the better of him. He could not kill this man. If he truly was Emrys, he could be the only solution to this growing problem.

"That was hardly a pot!" he protested, forcing the old resentment to settle in his stomach.

This earned a grunt from Dragoon, but he wasn't paying attention to Arthur anymore. Instead, he was looking at the mess on the ground with weary interest. "Stupid wyverns," he muttered, "think they own the place when I'm gone."

"Wyverns?"

"Oh yes, they are the equivalent of rats in the magical world. Steal your food, destroy your home, kill your guests-"

"What?"

"Yes, they are quite annoying. Better clean this up." Snapping his fingers, his eyes glowed a molten gold. The room righted itself, books straightening on the shelves, windows cleaned in an instant. The tools on the floor gathered and disappeared with a blue puff of smoke. Arthur suspected they had reappeared in the shed behind the shack. Several candles were lit for additional light. He felt his hand creep across his waist, reaching for his sword. This was not natural. Such blatant use of magic, it was not something he was used to. Finger finding the hilt of Excalibur, he slid the sword out of its sheath. With a glance from the old man, the blade was torn from his fingertips. Arthur turned his head abruptly toward the motion. Swiftly, the weapon was out of reach, being laid gently at the other end of the room.

"You won't be needing your shiny poker, Pendragon." Dragoon chided, moving past him to set herbs on a random shelf.

"That is not natural. Magic is not natural." Arthur tensed when the man brushed past him, reaching for his sword that was not there. He was ready to bolt, ready to fight with his bare hands if needed.

"Says the King who's turning into a dragon." The older man muttered, not even trying to hide it from the royal's ears.

His anger calmed almost immediately, the storm in his heart subsiding. Why, he could not comprehend. Perhaps it was that the old man didn't try to disguise the truth, or maybe because he was not afraid. Arthur, loathe as he was to admit it, was starting to admire this man. "Technically, that was caused by magic as well." He responded dryly.

"No, it wasn't. It was caused by hatred and evil. Will you tell me why you're here or should I assume you came here just to break another pot?"

Arthur had forgotten about Dragoon's sarcastic sense of humor. He folded his arms, feeling the scales on his arms scratch his sleeves as he did so. "I came for Emrys' help."

"The dragon issue, eh? Hmmm. I suppose it's a problem. Those overgrown newts are as annoying-" suddenly his head snapped up to glare at the ceiling. "YES I SAID NEWT!" He bellowed, smacked his lips, then continued as if nothing had happened: "-as your face. The less the better."

Surprised at his sudden outburst, Arthur forgot to feel insulted. "Who were you shouting at?"

"Did I do that out loud? Age must be catching up with me. It was one of those wyverns. Cousins of the dragons, you know. Felt insulted."

"You can talk to wyverns?"

"Nah." The sound was non-committal. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is or do I have to find out for myself? There must be a reason why the mighty King of Camelot would come to see a petty sorcerer like me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, contemplating the look of indifference on the sorcerer's face. He was a good actor, he'd give him that much. "Petty? I was told Emrys was the most powerful warlock of all time."

The empty expression faltered, shock flickering over his aged features. And was that... fear? Dragoon and fear didn't match. They were opposites. Before Arthur could think about it, it was gone.

The older man muttered something under his breath, probably a curse, and glared at the King with narrowed eyes. The cool orbs looked deadly.

"Bah! Is this becoming common knowledge?" he seethed, pointing a shaking finger at Arthur. "First the dragon, then the druids and now apparently you! Do you have any idea how annoying it is? The dragon is bad enough with his cryptic advice. 'Young warlock, you have a great destiny, so set me free, learn to control your powers, oh and help the druids EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY ASK!' and then when THE DRUIDS hear about this they were like: 'Oh, Emrys, you are so great and powerful we must bother you whenever we can.' 'Oh, Emrys, you must save us, even though it is but a spider.' 'Oh, Emrys, I'm sorry you heard about this a little late, but that monster you're fighting right now has come to kill you.' Thank God I can shut them out of my mind now. Although that dragon..." He let the sentence hang in the air, making it clear he didn't like whatever 'the dragon' was saying in his mind.

"Dragon? There is another dragon?"

The fear returned long enough to Dragoon's face for him to know he had hit a sore spot. _Trapped_ , Arthur thought smugly. The older man's expression abruptly changed to indignation, and the King immediately knew that he was in for another shouting session.

"Of course there isn't! What do you think I am, a dragon whisperer?"

"Then why-"

"No. I will not answer that! You already know too much. Will you stop prancing around the subject and tell me what you want already?"

"You will cure me."

Dragoon's voice lowered to barely louder than a whisper. "Will I now? The Araendye curse can not be cured with a simple spell." He regarded Arthur with a guarded gaze. "And it will do you good to see how magic actually works."

"Look, I don't know what that means, but I don't have much time. I woke up looking like this," The King gestured vaguely to the scales lining his face. "and it won't be long until I am fully transformed and possessed. You _will_ cure me."

Dragoon sighed. "Looks like we both have a problem then. I can't cure you; I don't know how to."

He had not expected that. He had _not_ expected that.

Arthur staggered backwards. The steely wall of calm he had put up around his soul crumbled _,_ leaving only dust to defend against the panic. _No_ , _no, no, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad,_ he thought. He had been certain that he would find a cure here. "Is there nothing you can do?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Well. I do know of one spell that may postpone the possession, but it will do nothing to hinder the physical change. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that just yet."

"'We'?"

"Yes, well, I can't let the Once and Future King out of my eyesight now. No matter how arrogant he is."

"The Once and Future-"

"Yes, that's you. Oh, don't flatter yourself. Just because you're prophesied doesn't mean you're not an idiot."

Grabbing various herbs and vegetables from a table, Dragoon stuffed them in his leather bag and limped out of the room. His steps were irregular, Arthur noticed as he followed. He was practically dragging one foot, relying on the support of the other to move. He must have taken a fall on the way back. "Stop." Arthur ordered, resting a hand on the older man's arm. "Where are we going?"

Bewildered at the sudden question, Dragoon furrowed his brow and slowed, leaves crunching under his feet. "What kind of question is that? To the druids of course!"

"But that is another day's ride! We do not have the time; my servant is coming as well and there are only two horses. You certainly can't walk."

The old man barked out a laugh, his eyes squinting with mirth. "Don't worry about the boy. He won't be coming."

Arthur reached for his sword, which had miraculously reappeared at his side. He didn't take the time to wonder about this, unsheathing it with a practiced move and holding it to Dragoon's throat. The honed edge broke through the wrinkled skin, a trickle of blood creeping down to his collarbone. "What do you mean?" Arthur asked slowly, his lips pronouncing every syllable carefully. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing! I bumped into him on my way to the hut, that's all. The fool wasn't expecting to see anyone but you. When he saw me, he nearly jumped out of his skin and ran away."

"Ran away to where?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Answer me."

Dragoon sighed, eyeing the blade at his throat. "Nice. I do admire a man who says please. I'll assume that if the boy has any sense, he would have run to the nearest village."

"Village? He's not coming back then?"

"Do you have any brains at all? You're standing here asking me questions I can not answer! How do I know what he does? You are wasting time."

Glancing up at the sun, Arthur saw that he was right. More than an hour had slipped by while talking to the sorcerer, and if Merlin wasn't back by now, he probably wouldn't be anytime soon. _We don't have time to wait_ , he realized. Dusk would approach in a couple of hours, and Arthur had rather they at least started their journey before the day ended. "You're right." he said, pausing. "We don't have the time." He sheathed his sword, the action extracting a small sigh of relief from Dragoon, which neither acknowledged. The old man muttered something barely audible, and once more his eyes blazed gold.

 _"Adwínest, fæcne grundhyrde! Náwa ácierest feorhberend. Bist ierre!"_

Arthur felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders _._ He hadn't noticed it before, but it had felt as if something had shared the space of his body, as if there was another presence beside his own. As Dragoon finished chanting, he felt the presence shift, retreating to the corners of his awareness. It was strange, he knew it was there now, but it stayed out of his way. For now. Emrys hadn't banished it completely, it seemed. He sent the old man a sidelong glance. "Postponing my possession?"

Dragoon nodded, his aged features serious for once. "Yes."

"But it isn't gone."

"No. It is merely hiding, but it won't disturb you for a while. I'm afraid it is impossible to remove it completely."

Arthur regarded him carefully. "You tried." He said at last, turning toward his horse. The man was mysterious. It was strange how fast he could change from a cranky, sarcastic old man to a wise, intelligent being. If possible, Arthur found it even more eerie how he seemed so familiar, as if he knew him for years. He swung back into his saddle, glancing back at Dragoon, who was struggling to get on Merlin's horse.

He had a feeling that there was a lot more to this man than he knew.

* * *

 ***Sentence taken directly from S4: Servant of Two Masters.**

 **Rough translation of spell: "Vanish, vile keeper of the Abyss! Never return to this being. Be gone!"**


	7. Arguments with Newts

7

* * *

 _Smoke filled his senses, heat tickling pleasantly at the bare skin where his burden had once rested. His wings beat powerfully, once, twice, lifting him above the flames. The air stirred as he rose, high-pitched screams of terror heard when the mortals saw him, master of the air. They were right to fear him. Foolish mortals, running to their King for help while the tyrant had caused the trouble himself. Uther, the King everyone loved and everyone hated. Uther, heart cold as stone. Such stupidity, to capture the last of the majestic Drakes and not expect revenge. Dragons did not forget._

 _Oh, he remembered. The cold metal cutting into his flesh, preventing any scales from growing to protect the injury. How well he remembered the sleepless nights in that dark, damp cave, knowing his salvation was only right above him. How he had reached out to the warlock, his dragonlord, offered him friendship and advice. Only asking for freedom in return. Freedom that was already rightfully his. And yet he was denied even that, chains cut only after he reminded his dragon lord countless times of his promise._

 _But now he was free. And Camelot burned._

Arthur's eyes flew open, breath catching in his throat as he breathed in sharply. Making a strained, wheezing sound, he coughed weakly. _Wrong. It felt all wrong. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong body,_ he thought, but he didn't have the faintest why. It had something to do with that dream, he knew.

 _He opened his jaws wide, his sharp teeth only adding to the terror he had already caused. They thought he was attacking. No, he was only a predator playing with his prey before striking. They were like mice, the insolent creatures, fleeing at the faintest hint of a fang. But now the time for stalling was over. He growled, feeling the venom of his hate rushing through his body and being accepted into the earth. The ground started shaking, cracks spreading as he roared to the night sky. This was his declaration of war, of revenge._

 _Uther would die._

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to grasp the sliver of memory. Closing his grip on it, he felt a tug, strong but not impossible to withstand. This dream had come to him for a reason, and he was determined to figure out why. One image appeared in the front of his mind, an experience. It was of Camelot, smoke curling from her towers, red and orange patches of flames seen in the lower town. The once white walls were blackened, the night studded with stars barely seen through the cloud of smoke. The feelings that accompanied it was so strong, so impossibly strong. One of them was of absolute hate, not toward himself for what he obviously had done (Arthur could easily pick out the sense of accomplishment) but towards Uther. Arthur wanted to hate this being who the memory belonged to, as it had hated his father. He wanted to hate it for almost destroying Camelot, for killing his people. And he certainly would have, had it not been for the terrible grief he suddenly became aware of. Grief for thousands of lives, so terribly strong the hate paled in comparison. This creature had lost so much, had gone through so much, Arthur couldn't bring himself to despise it.

The tug became harder to resist, easing the memory out of his grip. There was one yank, as if someone was pulling a rope, and then it was gone, taking the memory with it. Arthur was left only with the emotions and a brief flash of Camelot burning.

* * *

Merlin was getting sick of his old body. It groaned and protested at every movement, heavy and useless like rusty chain mail. His back refused to straighten, fingers shook uncontrollably and there wasn't as much power in his legs as there used to be. Not to mention that the aging spell was sapping at his energy relentlessly. He would sleep and wake up just as tired.

But though he had much to complain about, Arthur had it worse. Scales were steadily covering every inch of skin, his nails becoming dark and tough. His nostrils flared constantly, a hint of smoke rising from them if you looked closely. His hair seemed to mysteriously melt into his scalp, and Merlin could literally see the bones rearranging themselves under his skin. New muscles appeared, adding a certain bulk to his body without making him fat (fatter than he already was, Merlin thought to himself).

This was somewhat disturbing... considering only a day and a half passed.

It had taken longer than it should have to get as far as they had. Being the old man he was, Merlin had to regularly stop for breaks. Trying to kick his mount into a faster gait consumed more energy than you would think. His horse would snort once, twitch the skin under the saddle, which in turn jostled its rider, and walk on as if it was a stroll through the meadow. It annoyed Merlin to no end.

They had paused in a most unpleasant place this time; a small, muddy patch of earth which was apparently the only part of the woods you could see the sky from. It was, however, very small, barely fitting their mounts and their blankets around a tiny fire. They had wanted to go farther, but seeing as it was almost a swamp, it wasn't very wise to do so. Arthur had sent him one mistrustful glare and dragged his blanket over to a tree -as far away as possible- to sleep there. A nauseating feeling had blossomed in Merlin's stomach at his expression. It was almost as if it was... hurt. Yes, that was what it was. It felt so wrong to be looked at in disgust by his best friend. Merlin knew that Arthur saw someone else: the sorcerer who had killed his father. Yet, this did nothing to dampen the hurt that spread through his chest.

Suddenly, Arthur leaped out of his slumped position, breath shallow and eyes darting. He stood for a moment, bewildered, before practically falling back to the ground. "Arthur!" Merlin yelled, momentarily forgetting his role as cranky old sorcerer. He ran toward his friend, wincing as his stiff muscles protested. Leaning over the King, he gripped Arthur's shoulders and shook him lightly. "Oh no. Don't you dare, you bone-idle toad." he growled. Arthur twitched, his eyelids fluttering. For a moment he looked like he might wake, but then he stilled and slumped unconscious. Merlin let go of his shoulders and checked his pulse. The steady beat of Arthur's heart pulsed against his fingers and beat as strongly as it normally would. Merlin briefly considered dropping the king on his head to snap him out of whatever transforming daze he was in now, but set the idea aside when he thought of a safer method. "Arthur," he snapped his fingers next to the other man's ear. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I am going to pull you out. Brace yourself, okay?"

He reached out with his mind, feeling it connect with Arthur's. Immediately, something started nagging at him, a tickling sensation, as if a bug had landed on his nose. It was barely there, just brushing against his awareness, but it was definitely there. Merlin jerked slightly away when he realized what it was. Something had Arthur in its grasp. Something very powerful. Merlin reached out toward it, poking at it with a mental finger. _Scram!_ he told it.

An apologetic noise resonated over the connection. _I am sorry, Merlin. I am merely doing my duty._

 _Kilgharrah! I don't have time for this. Let him go!_

 _I cannot. As a dragon, I am obliged to prepare the King for transformation._

No no no. Merlin felt like pulling his hair out. _He is not going to transform! We will be with the druids within a few hours!_

The dragon chuckled. _Do not fool yourself, young warlock. You will not find a solution with the druids._

 _Leave him alone! As your dragonlord, I order you to leave him alone!_

Merlin felt the grip loosen. _Very well. But you have been warned, Merlin. There is a reason he was to be prepared. A very important one._

* * *

Merlin opened his eyes with a shuddering gasp, taking a moment to consider his surroundings. It wasn't needed. He was in the exact same position as he was before the mental tug of war. It was strange, it felt as if he was supposed to be in a cave with the King of Newts himself, arguing about the fate of Arthur's sanity. The clot pole in question was currently staring at him with unnerving intensity. "Why did you pull me away?" he asked. He didn't sound grateful at all.

The warlock glared at him and stood up, turning to walk away. "That is a private matter. None of your business."

"I was involved, wasn't I? It's completely my business."

"No. End of discussion."

The king stood up, grabbing the old man's arm. "At least tell me what that was all about."

Merlin turned abruptly, facing the King with fiery determination. "No means _no_. Now, if you don't mind, I have more _private_ matters to attend to."

He walked off without waiting for a reply.


	8. Transformation

8

* * *

Arthur was on the verge of collapsing. It didn't matter that he'd been sitting on a horse all day. It didn't matter that he'd done nothing to tire himself in any way. He was about to pass out from sheer exhaustion, in the middle of this godforsaken forest (though the trees were set slightly farther apart in this area, which was an improvement), with a sorcerer who refused to _shut up._

It was pathetic, really.

Arthur scratched listlessly at his arm, scales rattling as he ran his fingernails over them. Armor and tunic removed, the tiny plates were in plain sight for all to see, and while it was easier to reach the infuriating itches, it was disturbing to see his body change under his gaze. The scales looped and spun in random arrangements across his body, glinting gold as they seemed to shift and grow. The small patches of pale skin in between looked unnatural, and Arthur caught himself feeling a vague sense of disgust when he looked down at them. His thoughts were shouting, snarling with a degree of chaos that was definitely not human. _Get rid of the mortal flesh! Shed this human skin and fly!_ Arthur knew they weren't necessarily his thoughts; it was dragon instinct that told him that he was wrong, he shouldn't be walking on two legs, he shouldn't have fingers, he shouldn't be so...human.

He hadn't grown wings yet, which was somewhat gratifying, but the bones between his shoulder blades were growing, pushing against his restricting skin and reflexively spasming when they couldn't break through. While the new limbs were still developing, he knew it wouldn't be long before they saw the outside world. He could feel the muscles growing, and _ew, gross_ , _what was that?_ He jerked his head to the side to try and see his back, but all that really accomplished was pull the scales across his cheekbones taut. The slimy feeling persisted, pushing against his skin so strongly it pushed it up. His skin stretched to accommodate for the new appendages.

And suddenly the discomfort intensified quite a bit more.

All right, a lot more.

As in _Oh God I'm dying_ a lot.

Arthur had no idea why, when he screamed, he screamed for Merlin.

* * *

 _In my defense, I meant to yell for Dragoon. Since he's got magic and all…_

That was the last thought Arthur consciously formed before the pain got so bad that he could barely think at all.

Then there was only agony; sheer agony that filled every part of his being. He could hear himself screaming but hadn't the power to stop. The changes that had before been overcoming his previous form slowly were overwhelming him, fighting for dominance over the last vestiges of his former body. He could feel his skin stretching, melting into more glowing golden scales. His muscles felt red-hot, boiling and shifting into new shapes both unfamiliar and far too _big_. His face felt like it was being smashed in with a hammer then pulled back out again. And those wings…they were ripping through the skin of his back. The tearing sound hurt his ears more than the screaming which was growing increasingly breathless and faint.

It was like being burned all over, but the pain didn't stop, it only grew worse. And worse.

In the moment of the worse anguish, he threw his head back and shrieked again. Only, this time, a roar came out of his mouth.

 _And why does my throat suddenly feel like it's on fire?_

* * *

Merlin had been riding slightly ahead of Arthur, talking steadily about nothing in particular, when he heard his king let out a howl of pain, followed by a sharp yell of _"Merlin!"._ The aura of power the warlock had been feeling from Arthur intensified suddenly. As he whipped around, Merlin witnessed Arthur tumbling off his horse (which promptly spooked and ran off) and rolling about on the ground, writhing in agony. Leaping off his mount with as quickly as his old body would allow, Merlin ran towards his friend, only to stop dead when he realized that getting closer would do no good at all.

Arthur was transforming fully (and violently) into a dragon.

Of course, it had been too good to be true; the slow, gradual, and not _horribly_ uncomfortable transformation. The prat had to go and turn completely into a dragon in a writhing mass of tearing skin, flashing scales, and smoky screeches.

Though frustrated, Merlin stayed back, watching with no small amount of sorrow the king's agonizing transformation. _Of all people, this had to happen to Arthur…_ He wished, with all his heart, that he could help. But, as he had realized a while ago, there was nothing he could do but wait and see.

He hated to waiting. Sometimes it felt like that was all he did.

* * *

Arthur's vision suddenly cleared, with all its astonishing accuracy, just in time for him to see a bush nearby incinerated by the flames now shooting from his wide open mouth. Startled, he shut his mouth (it closed with an unfamiliar clacking noise) and looked around. The pain had all but subsided, and now everything seemed rather smaller than usual.

Dragoon or Emrys or whoever the sorcerer really was stood a short distance away with a strangely familiar, look of blank astonishment on his face.

 _He should have seen this coming, honestly._ Arthur snorted and stretched his wings. He froze for a moment, before turning his now long and agile neck around to stare at the gold-brown, leathery appendages.

 _My wings. I've got wings._

Unsure what to make of this development, Arthur looked back to the sorcerer, who hadn't moved. He looked so flabbergasted that it was absolutely no use to ask him anything. Arthur felt a sudden thrill; _I've got wings!_

 _Shed this human skin and fly._

Well, he was going to. Thankfully he had transformed in a relatively clear area; since he wasn't by any means enormous right now (he could tell by the size of the man nearby), he'd be able to get above the trees without running into too many branches. Grinning (or whatever a dragon did; it felt like a grin, anyway) Arthur stretched his neck upward and tensed his legs.

"Arthur, wait!" He heard Emrys shout. "We have to go to the druids…"

 _Oh, shut up._ Never mind the sorcerer or the druids. _I want to fly and I'm going to._ Arthur spread his wings and leapt into the air.

The first couple minutes were downright embarrassing. He barely managed to clear the treetops in the beginning; he kept hurtling down into the foliage with every miscalculation in wing position and tail balance (oh, he had a tail, too! It was surprisingly light). But after several painful tumbles (and many damaged trees), he got the hang of it.

And was it exhilarating!

The wind rushed past him as he rose upward with every sweep of his strengthening wings. He felt a great swelling of delight in his chest as the earth fell away, the forest becoming a carpet of green trees, each one crystal clear to his extraordinarily eyes. He could see the lands for miles around, more and more as he rose higher into the clean air. The land spread out beneath him in all directions below, the bright sun warmed his glowing scales.

Arthur felt more powerful than he'd ever felt before. This was better than riding, better than fighting, better than…well, anything! As he twisted, turned, and tumbled through the air, adjusting to his new body, he recalled his old form with scorn. It had been frail, weak. Ugly. So easily fatigued. Now he had the strength of a thousand years. He was all but invincible and so free.

A thousand sights, a thousand smells, a thousand thoughts connected with each. Tangled, wild, burning thoughts, they were. Thoughts of hunger, power, and magic. But he had no trouble with them. They belonged, as did the one clear idea that burned through all the rest as he reflexively shot a stream of flames across the sky:

 _I am a dragon. I am nothing else. This is right._

This was perfect.

* * *

Merlin was freaking out, to put it mildly.

Arthur had hurtled into the sky at least an hour ago and not come down. At least, not that Merlin knew of; the trees obstructed his view of the golden dragon who had so suddenly disappeared into the sky.

 _He might not be nearly as big as Kilgharrah, but he's obviously very strong. He'll be fine._ But that wasn't what Merlin was really afraid of at the moment.

He was afraid that Arthur would never come down again.

Merlin was sorely tempted to change back into his younger self as he stumbled through the woods, leading his horse (which had miraculously not run off). The warlock had found that it was easier to follow Arthur's progress through the sky on foot; at least at first, before the prat-king-turned-dragon had gone off in a different direction and vanished. But as hard as it was, hurrying around as Dragoon, Merlin was worried that if he changed back into his normal form, Arthur would return and catch him as Merlin. And how would the king react? _Probably very badly._

But then, how reliable would Arthur be as a dragon? How…conflicted? Would he still be Arthur or…someone else?

And what if the curse took full possession of him while he was flying around alone? What if he became a mindless, ravaging beast before Merlin could find him?

 _Why didn't I stop him with magic or something?_

It probably wouldn't have worked, anyway.

It must have been another half an hour before it occurred to Merlin that he could try to contact Kilgharrah with his mind, though he was reluctant to do so. _He'll just give me more riddles!_ But the old dragon might be able to find Arthur when Merlin couldn't…since he could fly and all.

Merlin had just about made up his mind to do it anyway when he walked into a wide clearing…and straight into a group of five cloaked and hooded druids. He stopped and stared rather foolishly at them for a moment as they stared calmly back.

"Emrys." one of them, a man in a dark blue cloak, spoke first.

Merlin nodded, not really surprised that they recognized him even as an old man. The blue-cloaked druid, apparently the leader, spoke again. "You have come for our help."

Merlin, exhausted, aching, and feeling more and more frustrated and worried by the second, snapped out, "Yes, I have. I needed your help with a curse…and now I've lost the bloody prat Pendragon because he sprouted wings and scales and decided to fly away. Because he got himself targeted by a curse that hasn't taken _anyone else_ for years and years and he got himself transformed into a dragon of all things…which is surprisingly ironic given his family emblem…and now he's flown off. Literally flown the coop! And I haven't the faintest clue where the idiot has BLOODY GONE OFF TO!"

Merlin had not intended to shout at the druids. Goodness knows they didn't deserve it. But they still regarded him calmly as ever. It was terribly annoying at times. How could they stay so blasted calm _all the time_? Didn't they _ever_ get frustrated? Even when they asked him for help they were as cool as cucumbers!

He instantly forgave every single one of them when one of the younger ones, clad in a rusty brown cloak, pointed at the sky behind Merlin. "Is that who you're looking for?"

Merlin nearly cried in relief when Arthur landed (rather clumsily) on the other side of the clearing.

* * *

 **I'll try to update soon! I'm working on another Merlin multi-chapter fic right now, so I'll probably alternate posting new chapters with each story.**


	9. Flight to Darkness

9

* * *

Merlin lay outside in the fresh air, flat on his back (on top of his bedroll to ease his creaking bones), his eyes shut. _Kilgharrah!_ he shouted mentally.

It took about ten seconds for the ancient dragon to respond. _Young warlock._

Merlin didn't bother to beat about the bush. _I need your help._

 _Of course you do._ The dragon's clear amusement vibrated across the connection. _How is the young Pendragon?_

 _Well…he's a dragon now._ Merlin opened his eyes and sat up, looking around at the druid camp, lit by the mid-afternoon sun. Arthur was next to the nearby stream, the golden gleam of his scales barely visible through the trees. Several young druids were watching him from a safe distance. Merlin returned to his conversation, shutting his eyes again to block out distractions. _But that's not the problem right now. I mean, it's clearly the problem, but I was kind of expecting it…_

For the first time, Merlin felt a bit of real worry in Kilgharrah's thoughts. _Has the dark possession element of the Araendye curse taken hold?_

 _No._ Not for the first time, Merlin sighed in relief. _The spell I used to help with that is still working. No, the problem is…_ Merlin hesitated, unsure of how to explain.

 _What is it? I told you the druids would not be able to help._

 _Yes, Kilgharrah, I know what you said. They said they'd see what they could do. No, the problem is…Arthur's not…well, Arthur._

Pause. _You just told me that he has become a dragon._

Oh, for goodness sakes! Hadn't Merlin suffered enough? They'd been with the druids since the previous evening, and things were not going well. Firstly, the druids were at present unable to offer even good counsel; secondly, Merlin's old body was aching more by the second; and thirdly, Arthur was creating an entirely new definition of the word "prat". _That's not what I meant! He's…not even acting like himself! Well, besides the fact he has wings and scales…and he flies, too…he's all…arrogant._

 _Arrogant?_

 _High-and-mighty. Superior. Aloof. He's not freaked out about being a dragon at all. He's…_

 _Enjoying it? Testing his strengths rashly? Making derisive remarks about other creatures?_

 _Yes! Wait, how did you…_

Merlin could almost hear Kilgharrah's huffing sigh. _Young warlock, I told you that the young Pendragon must be prepared. I knew that you would not be able to stop the transformation and I was correct; now it is a matter of if you can or cannot dissolve it. But he had to be prepared; Araendye curse aside._

 _And the reason for that is?_ Merlin didn't want to know, really, but did he have much choice in the matter?

 _Dragons are not perfect creatures, Merlin. Without the dragonlords to keep us in check, some of us would have long ago destroyed much of this world. Young dragons in particular are reckless, vicious; and yes, arrogant. In dragon years, the Pendragon is very young indeed. I hoped that if I prepared the Pendragon for the experience of being a dragon and you kept this Kaena's evil possession at bay, we could minimize the damage done by these events._

 _Huh?_ Merlin didn't understand what the dragon was driving at.

 _Young warlock, I feel that I must inform you; even if you manage to indefinitely prevent Arthur's possession by Kaena's evil power, he may never change back into his former form. I am sorry._

It took all of five seconds for that to properly sink in. _Arthur might never change back? No matter what I do?_ "WHAT?!" Merlin shrieked out loud, rocketing upright again and drawing many stares from the druids. Ignoring them, Merlin returned to his telepathic conversation. _Why haven't you told me this before?! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT?!_

 _Young warlock, I_ …

 _SHUT UP! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO SAY! I'M GOING TO CHANGE HIM BACK, DO YOU HEAR? I_ WILL _CHANGE HIM BACK!_ With that, Merlin severed their connection. He'd probably regret it later, he knew, but Kilgharrah had overstepped the line.

He stood up, brushed himself off, and stalked over to check on Arthur.

 _He'll be fine. He always is. I'll find a way. If the druids, can't help me, I'll go to the ends of the earth to discover the cure for this curse. The_ whole _cure; none of this halfway business._

On the way down to the stream, however, it occurred to Merlin that in his present state of mind, Arthur might not want to change back.

* * *

The weight was back.

The presence was beginning to force its way back from the far reaches of Arthur's consciousness.

He'd first noticed it when he had been hunting early that morning. Though Dragoon (Arthur still had trouble thinking of the old man as Emrys) had told him not to, Arthur had flown off and, with a combination of his newly enhanced hearing, smell, and sight, he had soon captured a wild boar. Once, as a young boy (a foolish, feeble boy, he remembered), he'd feared boars. But now, as he was at least five times the size of a large horse, he found the tusked animal nothing more than appetizing. He'd eaten it mostly raw, only cooked partially by his own flames.

The flames were wonderful, really; the tore out of his chest with a delightful sort of pain every time he wanted them too. He'd trapped the boar with them before swooping down to kill it.

But as he had been finishing off the fresh meat, he felt that presence. The dark, creeping thing that Dragoon had temporarily banished.

It was sneaking back, pushing its tendrils into his mind. It bothered him enough to take away his appetite.

Now, he saw Dragoon approaching where he was resting next to the stream. Arthur felt two distinct sensations as the grumpy old man approached, already spewing out a stream of insults and reprimands.

One was a bizarre impulse to actually listen to what Dragoon said; more of a compulsion, really. But Arthur easily shrugged it off (if only he could do that with the dark presence!).

The other sensation was far more disturbing.

It was an almost uncontrollable urge to send a stream of flames at the sorcerer.

Or maybe a spell?

 _Don't be silly! You may be a dragon now, but you don't know any spells!_

 _But I do._ The dark presence whispered almost inaudibly. Arthur wondered briefly if he'd imagined it.


	10. My Enemy

10

* * *

Merlin was just about exasperated beyond belief.

It wasn't the annoyingly calm druids…who had said, over the couple days, in so many different ways, that they knew nothing that would help him… they were not what was driving him up the wall right now. It wasn't even the fact that Arthur was a dragon; Merlin was almost used to it, and his arrogant behavior made a little more sense after what Kilgharrah had said. Plus he was thankfully getting his meals far away where no one had to watch.

No, it was Dragoon's achy, shaky body that was driving Merlin mad.

 _I can't believe I'm going to be like this one day! All the time!_

It was dreadful to contemplate.

Also terrible to consider were the repercussions upon Camelot which would occur if Merlin didn't find the blasted cure for that bloody curse.

 _Drat the prophecy, drat that woman Kaena for her blasted meddling in dark magic, drat that other sorceress…Lanae, wasn't it?... for telling Arthur way too much about Emrys while he was unconscious, drat the dragon for being dishonest with me…though it's not like I ordered him to tell me everything at once…I kind of wish I had…_

Arthur might be acting like a first-rate prat right now (plus he had scales, wings, and breathed fire), but Merlin was far more concerned with the curse. How long would it take the curse to take over Arthur's mind? Who would he be hunting when that happened? How much damage would he cause?

It all made Merlin's head hurt. _It's so blasted overwhelming on top of everything else I've had to do for Camelot…_

But right now all Merlin wanted was to get back into his normal, younger form for a little while. Just a couple of hours…

* * *

 _It was dark. So dark._

 _The world was almost black, save for the red outline of everything on the ground and the blank silver sky._

 _Fire burned in his throat. His wings were spread in flight, but it brought him no joy. His mind was a boiling ocean of rage and hunger._

 _But he had a purpose._

 _Nothing mattered but that purpose. Blood would spill, fire would consume. He would not rest until he had reached the one he was sent to find._

 _Emrys._

Arthur's eyes flew open and he lunged to his feet. His tail lashed out, smashing into a nearby young tree and bringing to the ground. Flames threatened to shoot from his mouth, but he quickly shut his jaws to prevent it. Dragoon would be angry if he burned up the druids' camp…

 _Dragoon. Emrys._

Oh.

Realization hit Arthur so hard that he felt his scaled body weaken momentarily. He stiffened instantly, but the understanding remained.

 _The curse. The presence that is taking over my mind. It's telling me to kill Emrys. The one person who can save me, according to Lanae._

It must not be allowed to happen. Dragoon would find a way to stop the possession…

 _What if you kill him first?_

The thought was almost tempting.

 _No!_ Arthur felt fury bubbling up inside. No, he could not kill Dragoon. The curse could not take possession of him. He would not allow it!

Unable to stay still any longer, Arthur launched himself into the air. If only the thrill of flight would help the creeping sickness of his mind! If only the rushing air would drive out the dark presence!

 _I'll find Dragoon. As pathetic as he acts sometimes, he helped with the presence before, didn't he? He can cast another spell…_

But what if the presence suddenly gained control while Arthur was near Emrys?

 _It's a necessary risk, if he is to help me._

Arthur, who had been flying north for the last couple minutes, circled around and headed back in the general direction of the druid camp, using his enhanced senses to find the sorcerer.

* * *

Merlin had a the antidote to the ageing spell (prepared by Gaius, of course) with him, but it was a backup. He would try returning himself to normal via spell this time. He chose a relatively wide clearing about ten minutes' walk from the druid camp.

The first thoughts Merlin had after he spoke the incantation was _Oh! It worked!_ closely followed by _Ugh! I still ache!_ But the uncomfortable feeling was fading already, and Merlin smiled to himself as he felt his now clean-shaven face.

 _It feels good to be young. I'll never take it for granted again!_

It was the last happy thought he had for quite a while.

"MERLIN?!" The roar came seconds later.

Merlin let out a yell and whipped around just in time to see Arthur land in front of him.

 _Oh, no, no, no…_

Gaius was right. Merlin was an idiot.

"Merlin?" Arthur's wings were still slightly spread, the expression on his face looked a bit odd on a dragon, but it was clearly utter confusion. "Merlin? You're Dragoon?"

Merlin was unable to answer, he felt so numb.

 _After all this time, this is how he finds out…_

Arthur shook his head slowly. "No…that's not…You have magic?"

Merlin tried desperately to speak, but his tongue wouldn't obey. All he could do was nod.

"But…if you're Dragoon…" Arthur froze suddenly; his golden eyes widened. "You're Emrys." For a dragon, it passed as a whisper.

Merlin swallowed hard. "Arthur…I…I don't know what to…"

Suddenly, Arthur's jaws snapped open. Merlin took an involuntary step backwards, almost tripping over the long brown sorcerer's robes he still wore. But Arthur wasn't interested in murdering him. Not yet, leastways.

The king-turned-beast flung his head back on his serpentine neck and sent a prolonged stream of hot gold-red flames skyward. A few nearby branches caught fire and burned quickly.

When Arthur finished breathing fire, he dropped his head and glared at Merlin, his eyes blazing. "You have magic. You are Emrys, the one who's supposed to cure me. You've been in Camelot all along."

"Yes." Merlin whispered.

The sheer volume of Arthur's voice nearly sent Merlin backwards again. "YOU'RE A SORCERER! YOU'VE BEEN THE MANSERVANT TO THE PRINCE AND THEN KING OF CAMELOT FOR HOW LONG?! HOW DARE YOU!"

Merlin couldn't help but feel uneasy on how Arthur in his dragon form was mentally separating himself from the human King of Camelot. "I'm sorry…" he mumbled, not certain why he felt so ashamed. What did he have to be ashamed of? "It was illegal, you know…"

"EXACTLY! WHY THE HELL DID YOU USE MAGIC IN CAMELOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, MERLIN?!"

 _I've got nothing to be ashamed of,_ Merlin realized. _Except perhaps that I didn't dare to trust my best friend. But he'd have had me killed._ Suddenly, Merlin was shouting too.

"You think it was my choice? I used my magic to protect you…I still do! I saved your life and the kingdom so many times since I came to Camelot that I've lost count! It was my destiny to protect the Once And Future King, and I did so! And now we're in this mess and I was doing my best to get us both out of it! I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know how else to fix this one except by disguising myself as Dragoon/Emrys!" Merlin felt years of lonlieness and fear pouring out of him; he could do nothing to stop it. "I"VE ONLY EVER USED MY MAGIC TO HELP YOU! TO HELP YOU SUCCEED IN YOUR DESTINY!"

"You claim that you've protected me all these years; been on my side all along and yet you didn't trust me with your secret?!" Arthur looked dangerously close to spewing more flames; smoke was rising profusely from both of his flared nostrils. "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO TRUST YOU NOW? YOU BETRAYED ME!"

"YOU'VE ALWAYS TRUSTED ME! AND I WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO BE ABLE TO TRUST YOU THE SAME!"

"YOU KILLED MY FATHER!" the king screamed, a few red flames flickering out of his mouth.

"HE WOULD HAVE YOU KILLED NOW, IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE AND SAW YOU LIKE THIS!"

Arthur's feelings of hurt and betrayal were wrenchingly visible to Merlin that he immediately regretted his words. _No…I didn't mean it like that…_ "Arthur…" Merlin tried to say, but suddenly the golden dragon rose up to his full height, his pain disappearing into a stony façade. "Goodbye, Merlin." As the warlock gaped, stunned, Arthur added heavily, "I'm cursed to hunt you…Emrys, really. Better get far away while you can."

 _This can't be happening…_ Merlin cried out, "Arthur, wait! We can fix this…"

"No, Merlin!" Arthur snarled. "I'll find a way to stop the possession on my own. I cannot allow you to assist me anymore." He turned away and stretched his wings out for flight. "Go where you will; I don't want to see you again."

"But…I can't go back to Camelot?" Merlin gasped.

Arthur's eyes were icy cold as he looked over his shoulder. "Who said I was ever going back to Camelot?" He leapt into the air, his swift wing beats carrying him speedily into the sky.

Merlin stared after him, tears burning in his eyes at the departure of the transformed man who had once been his closest friend.

 _What am I to do now?_

* * *

Arthur flew faster than he had ever flown before, struggling to get as far away from Dragoon...Merlin… _Emrys_ …as fast as he could.

He hadn't wanted to believe his own eyes when he saw the old man melting and changing into Merlin in the clearing. His mind…the part which was still very vulnerably human…searched desperately for an explanation that did not involve Merlin having magic or being Emrys.

The dragonish part of his mind had already begun to accept the revelation as a matter of course when his human side won out for the duration of the conversation. Arthur shouted at Merlin, accusing him of treason, of lying, much as he would've if he'd been in human form at the time.

Now he didn't know what to think.

 _My father is dead. Morgana is a witch who wants the throne of Camelot and wants me dead. I've been betrayed so many times. My manservant…my best friend…is a sorcerer. He lied to me and I want to hate him for it, but I can't. I'm cursed to hunt him down and…what did Gaius say about the Araendye curse? I'm supposed to curse Merlin in turn?_

Did it matter? Did anything matter anymore, save for lifting the possession part of the curse? Exiling forever the dark presence slowly gaining dominion over his mind?

He had to be rid of it. So he could…go home?

 _But I don't want to go home. I want to remain a dragon._

But dragons value their freedom above almost everything else.

 _My father imprisoned one. I killed one._

Could dragons cry?

If they could, Arthur felt that he would be right now.

 _Black. Silver. Red. Merlin. Fire. Black. Silver. Red. Merlin. Fire._

Arthur pushed away the darkness, but he didn't know how much longer he could.

 _I can't pass on the curse. To anyone, let alone Merlin. Especially not Merlin._

He flew faster, racing with the wind.

 _Didn't Gaius say that one victim stopped the curse once? Until it forced itself on me?_

He'd stop it. He had too.

 _Or die trying._


	11. Of Lost Minds and Meetings

11

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **I'm so sorry for the long wait! Real life is an awful pain, sometimes.**

 **I told at least one person that I was going to try to post a chapter last night, but that didn't work out for various reasons. I apologize for that, too.**

 **But here is chapter eleven!**

* * *

The ancient dragon landed heavily in the grassy clearing. From the surrounding trees, a few druids watched stoically from beneath their hoods.

Merlin had often been relieved or annoyed at the Kilgharrah's appearances; depending on the situation. Right now, the warlock wasn't sure what to feel.

His confusion and pain had rapidly faded to numbness that Merlin could only diagnose as some kind of delayed shock. It was just too much. Everything was just too much.

 _Even when Morgana invaded with an immortal army, I still discovered a way to win back Camelot. We still managed to retake the kingdom._

But now he was completely helpless.

Arthur was gone; transformed, possessed….lost. And Merlin had no idea what to do about it.

Which was why he'd called Kilgharrah.

And to postpone the inevitable "I told you so" from the dragon, Merlin spoke as soon as the dust raised by the creature's wings settled. "Arthur knows about my magic."

The dragon sighed heavily. "Well, I rather thought so, young warlock. Though you didn't give me any details when you called me, it has not escaped my notice that you are looking…quite yourself."

Merlin glanced down at himself and swore softly. He'd forgotten to change back into Dragoon. Not that it mattered; the druids certainly didn't bat an eyelash at the whole business. Besides, it was the least of his problems right now. "I failed, Kilgharrah." he said shakily. "Arthur's transformed into a dragon, he's flown off and I've no way to track him down…and he's being possessed; I couldn't stop it, Kilgharrah, and when he loses his mind he's going to be hunting _me_!"

"Young warlock…" Kilgharrah snorted, wisps of smoke rising from his nostrils. "Is the young Pendragon dead?"

 _Haven't we had this conversation before?_ Probably, but Merlin didn't really care. "No…but..."

"Merlin…did Arthur ever speak to anyone else besides you about the curse?"

"Um, Gaius…" Merlin frowned, remembering. "And he said he had a dream, too, right after this business started. He spoke to a sorceress…Gaius said that she died centuries ago…her name was Lanae."

"Well then." Kilgharrah settled back on his haunches, looking both relieved and satisfied. "You must speak with Lanae. In retrospect, it's an obvious solution…You may be destined to break this curse, but speaking with her may help you discover a way…"

"There's one little problem with that plane, Kilgharrah. Lanae's _dead_."

"Then you must speak to her in the only way possible: in a dream."

Merlin listened stonily as the dragon began a long-winded explanation of how to contact spirits in the dream world (he noted that the dragon mentioned that the druids might actually be able to help with this). As Kilgharrah detailed some of the rites necessary for the magic to work, Merlin finally spoke.

"Why don't we just discuss it as we go, Kilgharrah? It's not like we have a lot of time."  
The dragon readily agreed.

Though it took another six hours to find the proper place to perform the needed spells and another two hours to actually start working the magic.

Kilgharrah explained that in order to speak with Lanae, Merlin would have to go into a deep, sleep-like trance. The curse taking hold on Arthur had likely been what had granted the young king a similar unconscious state when he had spoken with Lanae.

To obtain the same level of unconsciousness, Merlin had to lie flat on a rock slab in a cave (Kilgharrah had to wait outside) surrounded by four older druids (who had said that they were honored to assist Emrys and the Great Dragon) while they chanted spells they knew partly from their own vast experiences and partly from what Kilgharrah had told them.

 _They seem to know what they're doing…though I wish I could perform all the spells myself; it would be more convenient but Kilgharrah said it wouldn't work…_

Merlin soon found himself drifting off into the grasping yet velvety arms of unnatural sleep.

* * *

 _Merlin woke up disoriented. Everything was…blank, empty. And silver. Very silver. And really, really, bewildering. And there were a lot of animal sounds echoing distantly from all directions._

 _It took Merlin a few seconds to realize that he was standing upright and not laying down. He groaned, rubbing his aching head, and shut his eyes briefly; only to yelp in surprise when he realized that he could_ see _with his eyes shut. Or at least, he could visualize enough to ascertain that he was in a forest in front of a cave. And there were strange symbols all over the rocks…_

 _"Hello, Emrys." a female voice spoke behind him. He spun around, opening his eyes._

 _The silver was back, but there was also a woman standing before him; a tall, armor-clad woman with black hair and brilliant, pale blue eyes. Magic radiated off of her in a powerful aura. "It is an honor. Or do you prefer Merlin?" she asked after a moment, smiling faintly._

 _She was so beautiful and yet so powerful…but not hostile…"Lanae?" he whispered._

 _"Yes, that is my name." She regarded him calmly, that faint smile still on her lips._

 _Merlin swallowed. "I need your help."_

 _"I know. And I am willing to give it. Or at least; my counsel, for there is little else I can do from my place here in this otherworld."_

 _"Any advice would be helpful." he replied, slightly desperately. "Arthur discovered my secret…he wasn't supposed to…he transformed, and he's being possessed now…Even the dragon doesn't know what to do…"_

 _"Very well, then." Lanae met Merlin's gaze steadily. "I will tell you what I know. But We don't have much time before Kaena…and you should realize that only you will be able to use the knowledge I give you."_

 _"Tell me."_

* * *

 _Black. Silver. Red. Merlin. Fire. Black. Silver. Red. Merlin. Fire._

He could see the ocean beneath him; he was flying along the rocky coast…

 _Black. Silver. Red. Fire. Black. Silver. Red. Fire._

Waves crashed against the rocks, sending silvery spray everywhere…Arthur could see with his increased eyesight…

 _Black. Silver. Red. Black. Silver. Red. Black. Silver. Red._

…are those people along the shore…

 _Black. Silver. Black. Silver. Black. Silver. Black. Silver._

…I'm to high anyway for them to glimpse me…

 _BlackSilverRedBlackSilverRedBlackSilverRed…_

…stop it…my wings hurt…my head aches…something's in my head…damn…

 _Black and silver and red everywhere…_

I can't see…I can't breath…no…no…get out of my…

 _Black rocks and water far below. Blank silver sky farther above. Red. Like blood. Like fire. A voice, speaking words of command._

Finally. A purpose. One mission. One thought.

 _Emrys._

* * *

 **Okay, you might hate me right now for what I am doing to poor Merlin and Arthur. But I will attempt to make it up to you by saying this: THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING, I SWEAR!**

 **(And I'll try to update sooner next time :D)**


	12. Hunting

12

* * *

 **Hello! I'm back!**

 **Real life (especially school) has been awful lately, so that's why I haven't been writing all that much recently. I'm sorry this took me so long!**

 **Just something that some people may have missed (I sort of did, too) that fixes a possible plot hole...to quote a passage from Chapter 5 - "he didn't even know if being a dragonlord would count for anything, since this was a curse and Arthur would not be a real dragon". Just so there's no confusion.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Merlin burst out of the cave, ignoring the druids standing around. "Kilgharrah!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

The dragon, for once, was right there already. "Yes, young warlock?"

Merlin skidded to a halt before the massive creature, gasping for breath and still dizzy from his experience. "I spoke with Lanae."

"And?"

 _Is there some Old Religion law about being calm in every circumstance?_ "She told me about the last person to defeat the curse; a man named Suwyl was enchanted and managed to not pass it on…he, uh, killed himself."

"Young warlock…"

"Before you say anything; I already know! We can't let Arthur die! And besides, he may already be too far gone…Well, anyway, Lanae said that Suwyl did stop the curse from spreading any farther for the time being, but it didn't destroy the curse completely. Kaena had foreseen that one of the curse's victims might stay self-aware enough to do so…Apparently she's in some weird dream world like Lanae, and she can get into Lanae's domain if there's a visitor from the living world there too…so we couldn't chat for long…"

"And the curse?"

"I _am_ the only person who can break it." Merlin hesitated. "I have enough power to break the transformation spell, but first I need to…I need to free Arthur's mind. Completely. Then the transformation bit will be a easier to handle it…Um, actually I'm the only one who can do that part because…I'm the only one who can…uh, convince Arthur that I'm not the enemy, and to fight back. He has to help destroy what's possessing him. So I guess it's another team effort." _Another "two sides of the same coin" situation._ Merlin almost smiled. "Oh, yeah, and Lanae said that Kaena's last hold on this world is that curse. And she's taking a lot of pleasure from it. If… _when_ I free Arthur from the curse, her power will be forever gone from this world."

Kilgharrah nodded slowly. "That will be a victory for the forces of good in the world. But it will be dangerous, young warlock."

"Yeah, well, what else is new?" Merlin was beginning to feel more hopeful, though still frightened. There was a chance, and he knew what he needed to do. He would need to talk to Arthur (probably difficult, but if he could just appeal to the king inside the fiery beast…). If he could get Arthur to listen, Arthur could repel the mind-controlling aspects of the curse enough for Merlin to destroy it. The rest…would follow. Hopefully. "First, we need to find Arthur. Before he causes too much destruction searching for me."

"Then I will carry you again while we search for him." Kilgharrah replied. "It will be much quicker."

They departed immediately after Merlin had finished thanking the druids for their help (they merely inclined their heads to him and the dragon and responded that it was an honor, predictably).

Minutes later, Kilgharrah was soaring through the air, far above the forest, with Merlin clinging to his neck.

* * *

 _He had swept down, close the earth, two…three…no, four times now. He flew roughly southward, searching for his prey._

 _The first time he had descended had been along the black rocky coast. He had sensed and seen birds and fish, but no Emrys._

 _The second time, it had been a village. The people had run screaming, and he had set fire to their barns…brilliant, all-consuming orange flames… in annoyance. For Emrys was not there._

 _The third time, he set alight to a band of raggedly-dressed men. They had tried to fight him; it had been laughable. But Emrys was not there, either._

 _The fourth time, it had been a much smaller village in the middle of a wood. He did not sense Emrys there, and that infuriated him. The village was burning when he left it._

 _Where are you, Emrys…_

 _He must find him. He must._

 _There was nothing but this desire, this desire to tear into his prey, into Emrys. To end this hunger._

 _To destroy Emrys._

 _His wings could not carry him fast enough._

 _For Emrys was drawing nearer._

* * *

They were approaching a long line of high, mostly treeless green hills when Merlin felt Kilgharrah's flight falter. "I see him!" the dragon rumbled. "You will face him better on the ground, I believe, but rest assured that I will be nearby!"

Merlin looked around wildly as Kilgharrah headed for the ground. Just before the great dragon landed, Merlin saw Arthur.

Or rather, the dragon that Arthur had turned into.

 _He's…magnificent._

Arthur's brilliant golden scales flashed in the sunlight as he approached. A spout of orange flames streaked across the blue sky as the king-turned-beast landed on a spot farther down the hillside from Kilgharrah and Merlin. Then he roared.

 _Good grief, he's almost as loud as Kilgharrah!_

Merlin quickly slid off the larger dragon's back, keeping his eyes on Arthur, who let out another roar, this one sounding almost excited.

 _He's excited to kill me._

But it wasn't him, Merlin realized. It was the curse.

And now Merlin was just plain terrified again.

 _Well_ , Merlin thought (not for the first time), _it's now or never._

* * *

 **Just to be clear, Merlin "convincing" Arthur to fight the curse would not be a demonstration of dragonlord powers, but more a demonstration of the power of friendship and loyalty (I know, kind of cliché, but I like the idea, so...).**

 **I'll try to update soon!**


	13. Confrontation

13

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **Once again, sorry for the late update! Between the orchestra concerts, final exams, and overall end-of-school bustle, I just didn't have the time.**

 **Anyway, on with Chapter 13!**

* * *

 _Why is that other dragon with him? No matter, he can be dealt with if necessary, Emrys is right there, right in front of you…_

 _Flames consumed him inside, trying to explode out of him…_

 _Get to Emrys, destroy him…Destroy him! Destroy him NOW!_

 _He lunged forward, forgetting all as the one thought guided him straight towards his one goal…_

 _Emrys was not running…he was so close…he could almost taste the man's fear…_

 _"Arthur." Emrys said it quietly, but it was perfectly clear._

 _He froze, briefly halted by confusion. Wait, that voice was…familiar…_

 _NEVER MIND HIS VOICE! DESTROY HIM!_

 _Shaking his head, moving forward…_

 _"Arthur, stop. This isn't you."_

 _Arthur? Who's Arthur?_

 _NEVER MIND THAT! ATTACK HIM!_

 _"Arthur, it's me. Merlin. Your servant. Your friend. Arthur, I know you're still there."_

 _He roared in response, shaking his head to clear it, to attack…He was so close…He could sense the movements of the larger dragon nearby…_

 _"Listen to me, you useless clotpole! This isn't you, you're being controlled and I know that you don't really want to harm me or anyone else! You're not a monster, you're Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King of the most-attacked kingdom that has ever existed or ever will exist, thought it's a wonder how it's survived this long with you leading it. It wouldn't have, if I hadn't been around to save your sorry arse and the kingdom by extension…SO STOP SLAVERING AND LISTEN TO ME, YOU IDIOTIC, LAZY, IMPOSSIBLE DOLLOP-HEAD!"_

 _Something stirred inside his raging, fiery mind. A flicker of resistance, of opposition to the dark fire in the form of a memory of trees, horses, a nickname, and a sudden desire to listen to Emrys's words._

 _And for a few moments, it halted him in his tracks._

* * *

Merlin had had no idea whatsoever what to say to Arthur. So he'd just started talking. Then yelling. A lot.

If there had been an entire army of spectators present at the confrontation, Merlin didn't think that anyone could've been more surprised then he was himself when his impromptu name-calling session actually stopped transformed Arthur from attacking him and transferring the curse immediately.

Though then he had to keep talking.

"Arthur, you've been cursed. You don't want to hurt me; it's the will of the sorceress Kaena. She's got control of your mind but we can stop her. I can try but I need to your help too. You may be far better at slashing away at enemies with a sword than writing speeches, but I know that your mind is strong as well. Arthur, this cannot be the end. You have to fight it."

Before he could draw another breath and continue, the golden dragon let out a strangled growling sound, shaking his head violently. Smoke trailed in twin streams from his nostrils and flames flickered at the corners of his mouth.

"I believe that your strategy may be working, young warlock!" shouted Kilgharrah from somewhere behind Merlin.

 _Drat it, Kilgharrah, now he looks even angrier!_ Merlin suppressed a yell of frustration as Arthur let out a loud roar apparently aimed in Kilgharrah's general direction. "Arthur, stop it! He's not going to hurt you unless you harm me, and I would really appreciate it if you would stop threatening to!" _Great, now he looks…confused?_

A confused dragon was a rather interesting sight. If the situation had been less serious, Merlin might have found it amusing.

At the moment, though, quick talking and quick thinking would be necessary if he were to get to the real Arthur inside the beast.

"Arthur, listen. This is not your doing, it's all Kaena. She is evil, she uses her magic for evil, and you are the proof of that right now! You can stop her, you _must_ stop her, and the only way you can do that is by fighting back! I'm your friend, Arthur, you must trust me! Fight back, Arthur, for your friends, your people, for Camelot! For the love of Camelot, Arthur! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

* * *

 _For the love of Camelot…_

Does that mean anything to me?

 _It did. To the calm corner of his mind and soul not consumed by fire, it meant something._

 _It meant hope. Strength. Friendship. Courage. Love. Freedom._

 _For the love of Camelot._

 _THIS IS A RUSE TO GAIN YOUR TRUST! ATTACK HIM! ATTACK EMRYS!_

 _The voice burned hotter, searing into his mind._

 _But something in him said "No."_

 _DESTROY HIM!_

 _"NO, I WON'T!"_

 _He thought he heard a monstrous yet feminine scream just before the weight lifted from his mind and the fire dispersed._

* * *

Merlin watched in horror as Arthur suddenly pitched forward with a agonized scream. Unable to stop himself, he ran forward as the golden dragon collapsed in a heap of scales and rattling wings.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled as he ran towards him. He heard Kilgharrah say something, but ignored him. "Arthur?" The warlock stopped a few feet from his friend, so close that he could feel the fiery heat emanating from the dragon's body.

 _Please, please, please…let him be all right…_

"Arthur!"

A few tense seconds later, the king-turned-dragon lifted his head. "Really, Merlin? You just _had_ to use 'dollop-head? Honestly…" he grumbled.

Merlin didn't care. He was too busy laughing from sheer relief.

* * *

 **I'm thinking that I'll wrap this story up within one or maybe two more chapters.**


	14. My Friend

14

* * *

 **Hello! I'm back!**

 **So there's good news and bad news: the good news is, I finally updated. The bad news is...this is the last chapter. But I tried to bring everything to a proper conclusion.**

 **I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. I stabbed you, you knocked me out, and then you just flew off?"

Kilgharrah shook his head slightly. "Not precisely, young Pendragon. I would have proceeded to destroy Camelot if your manservant had not forbidden me to do so."

"Because he's a Dragonlord and all." Arthur mumbled. "I'm still trying to get my head around that one."

Merlin tried not to laugh as he watched Arthur shift around trying to get comfortable on the other side of the campfire. It was getting late, and both the king and the warlock were too tired to attempt transforming Arthur back to his normal state that night. So they had decided to set up camp a short ways from where they had left the druids and work on transformations the next morning. Kilgharrah had resolved to stay with them as well. That had been immensely helpful for Merlin, since this way he didn't have give Arthur all the explanations that the now-sane-king-still-turned-dragon kept demanding; not just about the whole curse business, but also about pretty much every other suspicious incident that had occurred since Merlin had first come to Camelot. Merlin still had to explain a lot himself, but eventually their long conversation died away into silence.

It was the old dragon who fell asleep first that night. Merlin lay back on the soft grass, watching the stars far above as Arthur continued to shift around on the other side of the fire. Finally, long after he had stopped moving, Merlin heard him ask, "Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Why did you keep saving my life?"

Merlin smiled to himself. "Didn't I tell you already? It's my destiny."

A long silence. Then, "Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"You have a terrible destiny."

"Oh, so you're only just _now_ realizing that?"

"Idiot."

"Prat."

"Humph." Another pause. "Goodnight, Merlin."

"Goodnight, Arthur."

* * *

 _Merlin opened his eyes to see nothing but silver. Blinking rapidly, he realized that he was back in Lanae's domain. So he shut his eyes, though now the trees, rocks, and cave seemed much more blurry than before. And it was far too quiet._

 _She appeared almost instantly. "Greetings, Emrys."_

 _"Lanae." He found himself smiling. "It worked!"_

 _"I know. And now Kaena has been defeated."_

 _"Truly? I mean, permanently?"_

 _"Yes. And now, I am free. I can leave his otherworld prison and move on."_

 _"Oh! Um…" Merlin stammered, "I didn't realize that this was a prison…"_

 _"It wasn't always. In fact, I chose to stay here, so that I could keep an eye on Kaena and thwart her plans if possible. But now, she is gone. The damage she has inflicted has been healed…or will be soon." Lanae smiled at Merlin. "Thank you. And pass my thanks on to your king." The landscape began to fade into silver-white mist as she spoke._

 _"I will. And thank you for all your help." Merlin shuffled his feet a bit. "So, I guess this is the last time we'll meet."_

 _"Perhaps. But nothing is forever. Even the immortal must face their form of mortality. Farewell, Emrys. And remember: once you've been able to fly, it is hard to give it up."_

 _And with that, Lanae faded into the silver background._

* * *

When Arthur woke up, the sun was already well on its way climbing into the sky. He groaned and shifted around, scales rattling, only to let out a frightened shriek when he unexpectedly found himself face-to-face with Kilgharrah. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" he demanded. "And where's Merlin?" The manservant was nowhere in sight.

Kilgharrah huffed in amusement. "Merlin is off somewhere looking for his breakfast, I believe. I have already said farewell to him, and it is time that I took my leave of you."

"What, you're not staying to help Merlin turn me back into myself?" Arthur pushed himself to his feet and stretched his wings.

"He is more powerful that you think, young Pendragon. I believe him to be more than capable of changing you back into your usual form by himself. If, for some reason, he finds himself unable to, he knows how to find me." The larger dragon shook out his own wings before inclining his head slightly to Arthur. "Farewell, Arthur Pendragon. I believe that we shall meet again. Perhaps very soon, if we have anything to discuss."

 _Discuss what? Oh, yeah, that bit about the ban on magic, no doubt. Dealing with that now is going to be a whole lot of fun._ Arthur suppressed a groan as the Great Dragon backed away and leapt into the sky.

Arthur was still watching him fly off into the distance when Merlin returned, looking pleased with himself. "Good morning, Arthur!" he piped cheerfully. "I was thinking…"

"First time for everything, right?" Arthur said out of habit. Merlin snorted before continuing,

"We should be getting back to Camelot as soon as possible, so…if you want, I can try changing you back to a human now. I've worked out a few spells."

Arthur almost said _yes_ immediately, but then hesitated as something occurred to him.

 _As a human, I don't have wings. I can't fly._

He thought about that for a minute.

"Arthur?" Merlin queried anxiously when the silence stretched too long.

Arthur took a deep breath and asked quietly (or at least quietly for a dragon), "Can you give me a minute? I mean, I…I, uh…I want to try flying again first. While I still can, you see."

Merlin gazed at him with more sympathy and understanding than Arthur was usually comfortable with. "Of course."

Arthur nodded briefly before launching himself into the air and allowing the morning breeze to assist his wings in carrying him upwards.

* * *

As Merlin watched the dragon soar and twist through the air, brilliant gold against the clear blue sky, he finally understood what Lanae had said.

 _Once you've been able to fly, it is hard to give it up._

As the Once And Future King, Arthur would have to.

But Merlin didn't think he'd ever forget.

* * *

 ** _When a curse is cast on the Once and Future King,_**

 _Clearly, the Araendye curse that is supposed to turn Arthur into a dragon._

 ** _Fear and chaos he shall bring,_**

 _Self-explanatory._

 ** _To wander in darkness, fear and secrets,_**

 _Arthur was in the dark on stuff involving magic; plus I was afraid and was keeping my secret by being Dragoon._

 ** _And find cure, death and weakness,_**

 _We had to find the curse or else._

 ** _To silver or fire, it will fall,_**

 _Arthur will fall either to the silver curse or to the fiery truth._

 ** _The key will be lost in an empty hall,_**

 _The answer to the curse was hidden in a place of death, namely, where Lanae was in her otherworld._

 ** _The lock shall be broken and rediscovered,_**

 _Kaena and her power was broken when Arthur and I…well, really just me, found how to break the curse._

 ** _Leaving the bane of Emrys uncovered,_**

 _Arthur was the "bane of Emrys". Because he was going to destroy me. By infecting me with the curse, he would be ensuring my eventual demise._

Merlin finished working through the prophecy and looked over to where Arthur was riding his horse.

It had taken a few tries to change Arthur back into a human. Merlin had used several different spells with varying results. One of them had transformed Arthur halfway back into a human, before failing completely and sending him back into dragon form. Judging by the way Arthur had yelled, it had been extremely painful. But in the end, Merlin found a spell that worked. Arthur had reverted to his proper form, and, except for a few limb coordination problems, had suffered no serious side effects.

But he'd been uncharacteristically silent as they trekked a few miles to the druids' camp to collect their horses and supplies, and afterward as they turned towards Camelot.

Merlin alternated between chattering idly about nothing and silently thinking as Arthur brooded incessantly.

It was about mid afternoon when Arthur abruptly spoke. "Merlin, if I allow magic back into Camelot, will you help me figure out who to trust and who _not_ to trust?"

Merlin stopped his horse as the Pendragon did the same. For a few minutes, they just stared at each other. Then Merlin grinned and said, "You prat, what do you think I've been doing for the last few years?"

Arthur laughed out loud. "I'm still trying to get used to the fact that you have a brain, _Mer_ lin. But," he grew serious again, "I'll need your help more than ever now."

"So, you're going to allow magic in Camelot?" _After all this time, is this series of events really what will change it all?_

"Recent circumstances have changed my views a little. I don't know if you noticed, but I was a dragon for a while." Arthur responded dryly. "And we got help from another dragon. And druids. And a mysterious old man who turned out to be my magic-wielding manservant in disguise…"

Merlin chuckled. "You really never guessed, did you?"

"You know, Merlin, I think I did. I think that I knew somehow that you were different, but I never let myself believe that you could have magic and therefore, in my mind, be evil."

"Well…thanks, I guess."

Arther sighed. "And…no matter how extremely annoying and absolutely idiotic I always found you, I've always thought of you as a friend. Of sorts."

Merlin was grinning so widely that he thought his face would split in half. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head, _Mer_ lin."

"Dollop-head."

"Idiot."

"Clotpole."

The two friends both laughed together before turning their horses back towards Camelot.

The future…the "Golden Age of Albion"…was waiting.

 **The End**

* * *

 **So that's that! I hope the ending is satisfying enough. I could have gone on, I suppose...but it just seemed to end here.**

 **Thank you for all your support! I hope you all have a wonderful day!**


End file.
